


The World So Full of Mystery

by yellow_earth_at_the_center



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redemption, Slow Burn, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:02:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_earth_at_the_center/pseuds/yellow_earth_at_the_center
Summary: ...It took a moment to register the person who had locked eyes with me. A beautiful man, with white-blond hair, broad shoulders and muscular arms visible through the tight fabric of his immaculate button down shirt- he looked like someone out of a Muggle fashion magazine. But those silver eyes were unmistakable. It was Malfoy, of course, eyeing me curiously...Harry and Draco run into each other at King's Cross, and their brief encounter leaves Harry compelled to reach out to his childhood nemesis for closure... he gets more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh goodness, I'm doing it... this is my first fanfic ever, I feel wildly shy about it! This journey starts off at the epilogue, in the books, because well... that ending had to be fixed. I had to make some changes to the original Canon to make it work with my timeline: James Sirius Potter is not in this universe (sorry!), and Astoria is alive and well. I added notes at the end of some of the chapters to give you a heads up about content in the next chapter if it's relevant. 
> 
> Apologies in advance for any mistakes I didn't catch while editing, as I said I'm very new to this! I am thankful for the characters for telling me this version of their story, to share with you. I hope you are touched, wishing ya'll a sweet transition into 2021 <3

**Harry**

Nothing could have prepared me for how very surreal that moment was. We’d all been looking forward to it, for years really, but at the same time my stomach twisted up in knots when me and Albus reached platform 9 3/4. I did my best to be brave for him as we said goodbye, tried to say all the right things a good dad is supposed to say. But being back at King's Cross... I had not been back in so long, and all those memories… it was almost too much. Without Ron, Gin and Hermione, I think I would have fainted on the spot. Anxiety started to bubble up in my chest, and as soon as the train pulled away I had to get out of there, mumbling something to Gin to let her know I’d meet her outside.

I hurried back through the magical passage, hoping the Muggle world of King’s Cross would distract me from the rising panic filling my lungs. I barely managed to make it outside, struggling to take a full breath and fighting down the urge to vomit. I was a mess- some Wizarding hero, right? Not exactly how I thought this day would go. Suddenly I felt a presence behind me, and I whipped around, hand grazing my hip to feel for my wand- old habits die hard after all…. It took a moment to register the person who had locked eyes with me. A beautiful man, with white-blond hair, broad shoulders and muscular arms visible through the tight fabric of his immaculate button down shirt- he looked like someone out of a Muggle fashion magazine. But those silver eyes were unmistakable. It was Malfoy, of course, eyeing me curiously as he took a drag of a cigarette.

“Ok there Potter?” he asked in a low voice, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, of course I am,” I panted awkwardly, willing myself to sound somewhat normal.

He paused, staring into me intensely, as if he was searching for an answer to a question he hadn't asked out loud. Something seemed to dawn on him, and he slowly reached out his hand, solemnly offering me a drag of his cigarette. “This could help.”

“I don’t smoke,” I blurted out, a little too loudly. I try not to blush as I realize I definitely don't sound anywhere near normal. Nope, not at all. 

Malfoy sneers back at me, apparently unphased by how weird I'm acting. “It’s not what it looks like, that’s just for Muggle disguise. It’s a blend of herbs- Pedicularis, Lavender and Mugwort, dipped in one of my potions for quieting the mind when things get to be… too much. I grew the plants myself. It’s perfectly safe,” he added stiffly, raising his chin with a defiant look in his eye.

“I’m alright,” I barely manage to reply, still feeling dizzy from all the memories crowding around in my head. Just then the smoke from Malfoy’s concoction drifted my way, and a familiar smell cleared my mind a bit. It smelled like the mist that hangs above a forest right as dusk approaches- a mist you can only taste and feel when flying high above treetops on your broom. The scent calmed me almost immediately, wrapping me in the comfort of knowing I could still get away from it all if I needed to.

“Wow. That’s actually quite amazing,” I mumbled, surprising myself. “The smell, that really helped.”

Malfoy just nodded, studying me carefully with those silver eyes. I felt a bit self conscious then, realizing I hadn’t seen him in almost 18 years, and here I was acting like a complete weirdo. I struggled to come up with something to say that would be meaningful, something to acknowledge all the time that had passed, and this strange moment we were sharing. But right then Gin came through the doors of the station, with little Lily beside her. “Ready, love?” she asked, looking at me curiously. I glanced back at Malfoy- his Muggle disguised cigarette had vanished, and he stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall, moving to walk away.

“Wait, um, how are you doing, by the way?” I asked, and immediately blushed at my idiotic words. Too little, too late.

Malfoy turned back ever so slightly. “Fine Potter. And Mrs.Potter-Weasley, congratulations” he said with a small nod in Gin’s direction, and walked off.

I glanced at Gin and Lily, quickly saying “I’ll be right back,” and hurried after Malfoy. I’m not sure why exactly, but it didn’t seem right that our one interaction in almost two decades should end on that note.

“Wait! Malfoy, I really, um, I would like to, er… hear how you’ve been. It’s been such a long time.” Malfoy looked taken aback, and turned his head to glance around, as if wondering whether he was being followed by other people as well. “Maybe we could…get some tea? Catch up for a bit?” My ears reddened and heat rushed to my face, realizing this sounded ridiculous, but stubbornly hanging on to the feeling that I was right to ask.

Malfoy’s eyes widened with a shocked expression, as if I were asking him for directions to the Moon. He said nothing for a moment, and then finally replied, “I have to get going. I don’t live in London, and it will take me a while to travel back.”

“Another time then?”

“Perhaps”, he said with finality, and moved quickly away from me, into the crowds.

**> >>>><<<<<**

One week later, my nerves were still recovering from the shock of being at King’s Cross. The whole experience forced me to admit how much I still avoid everything that brings me too close to memories of my Hogwarts days. Of course Gin and I have been so excited for Albus to go there, but memories of school are ones I still look back on with equal parts fondness and despair. 

I want so desperately for Albus to enjoy Hogwarts, to have the childhood I never had- carefree and full of possibility. I want him to play Quidditch, to make friends, learn potions and meet magical creatures. Maybe even excel at herbology, given his enthusiasm for Uncle Neville and his medicinal gardens.  I want Albus to have it all without the threat of death and suffering haunting him, dogging his nights and days. And he actually gets to have that, to be an innocent child wizard, thanks to everything his parent’s generation went through… I’m truly happy for him, I am. And at the same time, there’s something else.... Some days, I find myself feeling the very worst of feelings- an envy, almost. Of my own child. It’s too shameful, and I try to remind myself it’s not about him, it’s about me and everything, everyone, I lost during my time at Hogwarts.

Ever since we dropped Albus off I’ve been having nightmares again. Neville sent along one of his herbal blends to help, one that had been a life saver for me back in the early days of his herbal career, but this time the blend wasn’t powerful enough to stop the nightly images that have come back to haunt me- Dumbledore falling from the tower, Snape after Nagini's attack, dying while he shows me how much he still loves my mother. The smell of blood fills my dreams, making them thick and all too realistic. I see everyone- Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, Fred, Dobby. Everyone staring at me with lifeless eyes, asking me why I got to come back, and they didn’t. It's horrible. 

I’ve taken to sleeping as little as possible. It’s made me jumpy on the job, and today in particular feels like a lost cause. Thankfully Ron gets it, more than most, and I’m beyond grateful that I don’t have to explain. He knows the dark circles under my eyes in the way only someone who has been through it can understand.

We haven’t really talked about last Sunday- Ron goes back to Hogwarts a lot since Hermione teaches there one semester each year, so he’s gotten a chance to adjust. The two of them politely stopped encouraging me to go back after I declined at least a dozen times. Hermione seemed to really believe it would help me recover from my PTSD, but I don’t think anything can make me return to a Hogwarts without Dumbledore. And the thought of walking into the Great Hall is unbearable, filled with memories of people screaming and crying while they died, or while they held their loved ones through their final breaths. No, there’s no way I could do it.

“Do you wanna talk about it mate?” Ron asked, looking hard at me. “You’ve been staring at that report without blinking for the last 10 minutes, it’s right creepy.”

“No, no I’m good. Just haven’t been sleeping well is all.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say… need something to do? There haven’t been any new cases, I know that keeps you busy. I can think of something if it helps.”

I roll my eyes back at him, pretending to be irritated, but I don’t have the energy to be annoyed. I let myself think it over for a moment- it’s true that staying busy helps me spend less time in the horrors of the past, and I could really use a distraction right now. As I thought over Ron’s words, something dawned on me, and I felt a flush come to my cheeks. I wasn’t sure it was something I could ask Ron about without sounding weird.

“What? What?! I can tell you’re thinking something,” Ron asked, not missing the redness creeping over my face.

Ugh. Sometimes it’s really too hard to hide something from your best mate, especially when you’ve been working together for the past 16 years as partners in the auror department. I cleared my throat and did my best to stop fidgiting under his gaze. “Actually, um... I ran into Malfoy at King’s Cross. You saw him, yeah?”

“Yeah, for a minute. Didn’t pay him much mind though, who knows what that git is up to,” Ron snorted, not bothering to disguise his contempt. Ron understood why I testified in Malfoy’s defense after the war, we all came to understand the ways he had been manipulated by Voldemort. But Ron never forgave him for bringing Death Eaters into the castle, no matter how much he was operating under threat of his life, or his family’s life. I know it’s because Ron blames him for Fred’s death- we all want someone to blame. I’ve never been able to stop blaming myself.

Silence settled between us, and more memories started to fill the room- so many things left unspoken, too painful to name. I took a deep breath. “Do you think people can change?” I asked, the words coming out in a whisper.

Ron got really quiet, and I could almost hear him thinking. He and Hermione were really into Muggle therapy, it had helped them both a lot. Ron was noticeably more even-tempered, talked about his feelings openly, and had even become a really good listener. “I dunno Harry. But I guess we have to hope so.” His tone made it clear that was all he wanted to say on it at the moment.

I gave him a weak smile. “Right, yeah.” I sighed. “Hey, you want something from the break room? I’m going to see if they have any treacle tart.”

“Sure, sounds good.”

I got up quickly and sincerely hoped my quest for sweets might help lighten the mood. My attempt at bringing up the subject clearly backfired, I should have know better. It was a question I had been asking myself though- seeing Malfoy was both unexpected and not surprising at the same time. What I hadn’t been prepared for was the change in his demeanor. Serious, and observant. In that short exchange, it felt as though he was seeing me in a way I badly needed to be seen, but the feeling was hard to pin down. Just more unspoken words, I suppose, like it always was when it came to the war. Everything got twisted and stuck, too hard to say out loud.

Somehow I knew when he offered me a drag of his herbal concoction, he was feeling the same thing I went through at platform 9 3/4. Terror, most likely. That’s the only word to describe what it’s like when those flashbacks flicker through my mind, consuming my whole body, again and again. I shook my head to clear it, and stepped into the break room, nodding to the other aurors. There were no treacle tarts at the snack bar, but there were some gingersnaps, which I knew Ron loved. I piled a small plate with the fiery little cookies and filled a mug with cream for dipping.

On my way back I slowed down while passing the Records room. I almost never went in there- it was a room used mostly by aurors who did research on some of the cases. Ron and I only did work on the front lines, catching “the bad guys”, so we didn't have a lot to do with paperwork. As I passed by, a question started forming in the back of my mind, and suddenly I knew what might take my mind off things. I dropped off the cream and cookies to Ron, telling him I would be back in a bit, hoping a little space and sweets would lift his spirits.

I made my way back to the Records room, and took a peek inside. Nobody was there today- it had been a quiet week, and I slipped in, looking around at the file cabinets. I walked directly to the ones labeled “M”. It didn’t take me long to locate the Malfoys- their files were thick, with some of them, like Lucius, having multiple files from over the years. I took out Draco Malfoy’s file, giving a quick glance over my shoulder.  I wasn’t completely sure why I was doing this, but I had to know. I took a deep breath, and opened the file, flipping past clippings from the Daily Prophet about the trial, not wanting to look at photos that would bring back more troubling memories. But after the trials, there were only a few papers- the aurors in charge of his probation made brief reports. 

It appeared that soon after the trials Draco Malfoy had moved to Muggle London, and was obeying the terms of his probation. The ten years of his sentence were unremarkable, and after that, there were two last pages- one writing that Malfoy had moved to the United States, to New York City. The page gave his address, and the contact information of the auror there who had been assigned to secretly keep an eye on him, should any suspicious activity come up. There was no report from that officer, or anyone else in New York. The final page gave the update that Malfoy had moved back to England a year ago, and was living outside of Portsmouth.

Something about the last two pages struck a cord in me, and wheels started turning to make sense of things. Malfoy said he didn’t live in London, his excuse for leaving quickly at King’s Cross. I had paid attention to that bit of information at the moment, and now I finally knew why- according to the few New York City notes, Malfoy arrived in the U.S. right after his probation ended. He arrived alone and lived in a place called Greenwich Village, opening a bookstore there. But why would he move to New York, and leave Astoria and Scorpius, who must have been about 2 years old when he left? As far as I knew, Astoria and Malfoy were still married, and it was well known that Astoria lived in London. She was quite an accomplished historian, working as the head of the Department of Historical Artifacts.

It didn’t make sense to me. Something was strange here, and I felt the familiar thrill of exposing a mystery sparking in my mind. This little rush of excitement was the best I’d felt in a while, and I quickly returned Malfoy’s file to the cabinet and left the room, promising myself I’d figure this out as a side project to keep my mind from careening off into more troubling thoughts.

**> >>>><<<<<**

I had considered sending an owl first, but thought it would be too easily ignored. So that’s how I found myself standing outside of Malfoy’s home in Portsmouth on a drizzly Sunday, two weeks after I dropped Albus off at King’s Cross. I wasn’t sure how he would react, seeing me here unexpected, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to go well. Maybe an understatement- it would likely be a disaster. But the stubborn Gryffindor in me reasoned that I was trusting my gut, and this visit was for the best. We couldn’t avoid each other forever, especially now that our sons were in school together, and as Ron and Hermione’s therapist would say, closure is important. 

So I took a deep breath, and knocked loudly on the door. For a few minutes there was only silence in response. I knocked again, and to my surprise, the door quickly opened and Malfoy stepped outside, closing it abruptly behind him. I stepped back, flustered, not expecting him to come out and be standing so close to me.

“Oh hi, er, sorry to bother. I looked you up, and I, um, wanted to see if you’d like to get tea?” I knew it sounded odd, after all these years, but it was all I could think of.

Malfoy, as expected, looked suspicious. “What is it you really want, Potter? Are you here on auror business?”

“No, no! Definitely no. It’s Sunday, er, my day off. I just wanted…” I sighed, running my hands through my hair as I struggled to get the words out. “It’s been a long time Malfoy, and our sons are going to school together now, and after running into you I thought we should try to, you know…. catch up? Start over, maybe?” 

He continued to stare at me, his expression closed off. By the look in his eyes he clearly thought I was losing it.

I cleared my throat. “Are you familiar with the idea of closure?” I asked, blushing all the way to the tips of my ears. Something about being in Malfoy’s presence was quickly regressing me to my younger self, constantly flustered and incoherent when it came to him.

“How did you find me?” he asked tursely. 

“I, um. I looked you up. I thought we should talk.” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

“You have five minutes. Talk.” he bit out sharply.

I took a deep breath, trying to count backwards from ten, thinking of Ron’s Muggle therapy technique. “I honestly don’t know why I’m here Malfoy. All I know is being at King’s Cross, it brought up a lot of memories. I haven’t been able to sleep since I dropped Albus off- too many nightmares. The only time I felt a little peaceful was when I smelled the smoke from that concoction you made. And when we talked briefly outside of the station, it seemed like maybe you might know what it’s like… you know… to still be so affected by too many bad memories.”

I finally made myself look up at him. His face was unreadable, cold and carefully guarded. His eyes were more silver than I had remembered, the wild gray of thunderstorms with a hint of moonlight near the center. I had never really looked at him like this, up close, noticing the color of his eyes. It was mesmerizing, and it took me a moment to realize I had stopped breathing. 

I coughed and broke eye contact, trying to disguise my breathlessness. This was a mistake. “I’m sorry, it doesn’t seem like this is a welcome visit, I’ll go.”

Malfoy sighed audibly, turning his head to look towards the shoreline, a few blocks down from his home. He looked like he was thinking things over. Finally he sighed again. “One of the benefits to living in Portsmouth is the views along the water. Even when it’s gray out, a stroll along the promenade calms my nerves. Let’s go for a walk, I’ll give you an hour. I’m going to fetch my coat.” 

I couldn’t believe Malfoy had just agreed to go on a walk with me! Miracles do happen! I noted to myself that I should always speak from the heart when it came to him- it was clear he could sense codswallop from a mile away, so nothing but the truth would be satisfactory. That felt good to me, the idea of someone who knew me, from so long ago, seeing right through my old patterns and pushing me to be real for once. Too many people either still put me on a pedestal or envied me, even all these years later. Sometimes it was hard to feel like there was room to be myself.

I snapped out of my thoughts when Malfoy emerged from his workshop, dressed in a forest green raincoat that was well fitted from his collar to just below his knees. Wow. I had never seen anyone look so good in a raincoat. I blushed when I realized I just had that thought, about Malfoy, and took note of what I was wearing- a flimsy grey poncho that came down to my knees. I must have looked like a rotting potato. 

We started to walk, Malfoy leading us to a promenade that went along the water’s edge. The smell of the sea drifted over us through the drizzling rain, and it was strangely peaceful. None of the hustle and bustle of the busy London streets.  I was desperately trying to think of something to say to break the silence when Malfoy cleared his throat. 

“First, Potter, I do owe you a thank you. Thank you for testifying at my trial. I don’t want to dwell on it, but do know that I am very grateful for the testimony you gave for my mother and I.” His jaw clenched for a moment, and we both took a deep breath. 

“A matter that I do want to make clear to you, however, pertains to our children.  Scorpius is not my son,” Malfoy said, watching me closely to gauge my reaction.  I stared at him and he shook his head slightly, taking in my shocked expression. 

“What I mean is- Scorpius is my child, yes. But Scorpius is not my son. Scorpius is genderqueer, and does not identify as just a boy, or a girl.” He scowled at me then, as if reacting to something he was expecting to hear. “Are you familiar with the the term non-binary at all?” 

“Yes, yes, I am!” I said, a little too enthusiastically while Mafloy regarded me again with clear suspicion. 

“I’m not that out of it, you know. Actually, my family is a bit more queer than you might guess,” I gushed, grinning broadly now, delighted to find out that Mafloy and I shared something more in common than our trauma from the war.

“Actually, can I let you in on a secret? And really, it is a secret, for now.” I said, watching Mafloy, who still held a guarded look on his face. Curiousity seemed to get the best of him, and he nodded slowly. “Pinkie swear me.” 

His eyes widened. “Are you serious?!”

“Dead serious, I need to know I can actually trust you.” I held out my pinkie.

“Ugh, Potter, you are still such a child.” He reluctantly met my pinkie and our fingers entwined briefly, sending a shock of magic between them as we sealed our promise.

“Lily is actually Luna and Ginny’s birth child. They practiced a form of magic that helped them conceive her together, because they’re _together_ , romantically. They’ve been partners for the past 10 years. Gin and I are still legally married, but we aren’t together like that anymore. We’re really good friends who care about each other dearly. I’m Lily’s chosen father and I love all of them so much- Luna, Gin, Lily and Albus. We’re family, and we all live together at Grimmauld. It’s not a secret to our friends, but we don’t want the press finding out and spreading it all before Lily has had a chance to choose how she wants to tell her own story.” 

This time it was Malfoy who looked surprised. He took a long moment to stare at me, as if I had just grown a new head. “Really, Potter. I did not expect that. I suppose I didn’t think you had it in you to be so… interesting.” His lips moved in an almost smile.

“Maybe you’ve always underestimated me, Malfoy.” I teased back. 

We met each other’s eyes, and it felt like a bit of tension had lifted after sharing about our personal lives, in such an intimate way. It was so different than our usual interactions, and I basked in the moment. 

“It’s so great that you are supportive of Scorpius. What a lucky kid. We’re all really committed to raising our kids without expectations around gender roles, or magical ability, all of it. We want them to be free from any kind of prejudices.”

Malfoy snorted, but his expression warmed a bit. “How very Gryffindor of you. Well, Scorpius, whose pronouns are they and them, is an amazing person. I promised myself to be the supportive parent that Father never was, and I am committed to loving Scorpius unconditionally. Not that Scorpius being genderqueer is a challenge to loving them any way- I’m very proud of who Scorpius is. And besides, I like to think they got some of their queer streak from me, after all.” 

“Oh?” I asked, smiling hugely. Things were certainly taking a turn for the better.

Malfoy chuckled, softly. “Well yes. I am, as the Muggles say, queerer than a three dollar bill.” 

“You don’t say? So am I!” I replied, and suddenly I was having a fantastic day.


	2. Chapter 2

** Draco **

Never would I ever have believed I would be spending a Sunday afternoon with Harry Potter. By my own will even! Hell has officially frozen over. 

When I first saw him, my immediate thought was that I was under investigation, again. But when he started babbling about why he came to see me, closure and all that, a part of me actually believed him. Potter has always been a miserable liar, after all. And then he called Scorpius my son, and I knew I had to take some time to explain things. Scorpius and I have made a deal that I shall always speak up and correct anyone who misgenders them, and educate people about gender overall. It was exhausting, most of the time, dealing with the reactions of small minded bigots and terfs*, but some people got it. I was beyond surprised that Potter, of all people, understood.

I had been suspicious about his intentions, but the walk ended up being shockingly amicable. It was startling how smoothly the conversation went, given that I had been his childhood nemesis, and we had tried to kill each other off and on throughout the course of a horrific war. I had carefully steered things away from questions about my past, and focused instead on easier subjects while we talked. The children- that was clearly Harry’s favorite. His eyes lit up when he talked about his kids, and it was oddly endearing. The biggest surprise I discovered about him was his domestic affairs. Picturing Potter, and a lesbian pairing of the Girl Weasley and Looney Lovegood living all together in London, raising their kids as a family unit, quite literally blew my mind. I didn’t know Potter had it in him to be so… _alternative?_ I had always thought of him as quite straight laced, but now… he’s not even straight!

After he left, I rolled a joint of my Pedicularis blend, the one I had been smoking when I first saw Potter at King’s Cross. As I inhaled the scent I let myself relax into the memories of riding a broom. My favorites were of Quidditch of course, something I missed terribly. I had loved the thrill of riding my Nimbus 2001 over the crowd, the sound of people cheering wildly below thrumming through my veins. I thought about Potter, and the many times we fought it out for the snitch during school. I wondered idly if there hadn’t been a war, would I ever have actually gotten the satisfaction of beating him, and catching the snitch myself….

I took a deep breath, vigorously shaking my head to clear it. It was foolish to start down that road, thinking those kind of thoughts. About the war, and everything that had never been, never would be. It was always dangerous to start thinking that way… my heart clenched, and tears pricked behind my eyes. I took one last drag and put out the joint- I needed to get out of this head space quickly, before I spiraled into a bad place. 

I hurried upstairs to my bedroom, changing into a pair of black jeans and my favorite muscle tee, with the words, "Embrace The Brick" written across it, an homage to Miss Major which always makes me feel more powerful when I wear it**. I grabbed my pleather jacket and helmet and went out to the carport, hopping on my Ducati. I arrived at Tropics Day Spa in less than 5 minutes, grinning to myself as I parked my bike. I loved this place- part of why I chose to move to this somewhat sleepy city. I wanted to be outside of London, to get away from the heart of England’s Wizarding world a bit, and to be by the water. But I also needed to be somewhere with a gay scene, and Tropics Day Spa charmed me the first time I visited Portsmouth. Everyone was so friendly, part of the small city culture- and I was definitely fresh meat. That night I went home with an incredibly handsome guy I met in the sauna, and he showed me a great time. Getting tied up and fucked for hours by a sexy stranger was definitely top on my list of ways to get my mind off the lingering effects of the war, and I felt myself getting hard over the memory as I walked up the stairs to Tropics.

40 minutes later, as I was cumming on the face of a very enthusiastic bottom in the locker room, I surprised myself by thinking what it would be like to see Potter on his knees in front of me, happily sucking down my cum.  Fuck… I was definitely in trouble now.

>>>>>><<<<<<

I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of saltwater as I sat on my sculling boat, taking a break to appreciate the perfection of this quiet Sunday morning. I loved these moments- letting myself drift on the water, slowly becoming one with the environment. It felt like nothing bad could touch me out here, surrounded by the grey of foggy England skies, and the dark slate blue of water rippling out around me for miles. It was so gorgeous and serene. I sighed, almost happy, and turned to start rowing my way home.

I lifted the boat out of the water and set it on my hand trailer, pulling it behind me as I walked back home. I almost jumped out of my skin when I rounded the corner and saw a familiar figure sitting on my doorstep.

“Oh hey,” Potter mumbled, ever the articulate one. He gave me that famously lopsided grin and looked up at me with his too-green eyes as he stood. “Sorry, er, I thought I’d stop by again. And I thought I’d wait, I hope that’s ok?”

“Stalking me, are you Potter?” I asked, trying to mask my surprise, and possibly delight, at seeing him again.

He looked me up and down, blushing a bit before answering, and I caught the look in his eye. I was in my rowing gear, a deep green full body lycra suit, and I happened to know it was rather fetching. On more than one occasion I had been chatted up by strangers who let me know how much they appreciated the form fitting fabric on my body.

“Er, I brought you something. It’s a zine.” he muttered, and blushed again, looking down at his shoes, while holding out a thick pamphlet.

“I know what a zine is,” I laughed, taking it in my hands. “I did once own a bookstore, after all.” I stopped short, realizing I had said a little too much. It wasn’t my intention to reveal details about my past, so I quickly changed the subject.

“Anyhow, since you came all this way, let’s have that cup of tea, shall we? And breakfast too, I’m famished. I need a minute to get changed, but I’ll be right down.” 

Harry nodded, his cheeks still a bit pink, which filled me with an odd sort of glee. As I hurried upstairs and peeled off my damp lycra, I tried to make sense of what was going on. Why was he here again? Was I being tricked somehow? It didn’t seem to add up. I’m sure Potter had much better things to be doing on his days off. And it was too strange, him showing up here after all these years. I promised myself I would not be caught off guard, and I would figure out what he was up to. 

I carried the zine with me as I walked out to meet him, taking a moment to realize that he had thought to bring me something, and it made me smile, despite myself. “So what’s this then?” I asked him, holding up the brightly colored zine. 

He smiled, excited to tell me about his gift. “It’s a zine compilation written by and for non-binary youth. It’s from the States, the kids are between 6 and 16 years old. I didn’t have a chance to read it yet, but I thought it might be interesting for you, and Scorpius?” He blushed again as we walked together through town. I could get used to how his face looked when he blushed, and caught myself imagining what else could bring that flush to his cheeks. I shook my head and cleared the thought from my mind.

“Well thank you Potter, that’s very thoughtful. I’ll read it over and send it to them.” He grinned madly back at me, looking very pleased. 

We spent the next hour at a cafe that I enjoyed, but not one my favorites. I didn’t think it would be wise to start sharing my regular spots with Potter, in case this was all a ploy and I was being set up for a raid or something. Not that I had anything to hide, these days. It was really just too odd, us spending time together suddenly, getting chummy, and it seemed best to take precaution. We talked more about the kids for a while, and I worked on steadily asking Potter questions about his life to deflect away from myself. 

I learned he was an auror, and had gotten into that line of work about a year after the war ended. Before that, at Hermione’s suggestion, he spent some time at a retreat in Scotland where many war survivors got support from Mind Healers in treating their PTSD. It had helped some, but the nightmares, when they came back, were still relentless. I could empathize, certainly, and bit my cheek to keep myself from offering to make him an herbal blend to help. I would be entangling myself too much to start down that path with Potter. 

“What about you,” he suddenly asked. “What have you been up to all this time?”

I narrowed my eyes unconciously. “Honestly, I’d rather not get into it. It hasn’t been an easy time.” I said stiffly, finishing my tea. I wondered if I should end our conversation here, get up, and make it clear this was the last of our “catching up”. But something in me was still curious, and felt a strange draw to continue connecting with my former childhood nemesis. I let myself sigh and ease up a tiny bit. “I suppose it wasn’t an easy time for any of us, in different ways.” 

He nodded, and we both got quiet for a while. Potter eventually broke the silence. “Um, thank you, Malfoy. For taking time to meet with me. I’m really glad we got to have tea.”

Potter was watching me, carefully. I could tell we both were being cautious, even if our conversation did feel easy at times. “Me too,” I said softly, and meant it. “I should get going though, I do have some work to catch up on.” 

He nodded, and we both left the cafe, walking slowly back to my place, mostly in silence. When we got there, Potter looked oddly uncomfortable, squirming a little as we arrived at my doorstep. He cleared his throat. “Listen, um. I hope I didn’t overstep something, I felt like we were getting on so well, and maybe I mucked it up by asking too much. You don’t owe me anything, Malfoy. You really don’t.” He looked almost sad, and it took me by surprise.

I sighed, feeling a bit sad myself. I hated the way the past had shaped me to be so mistrustful. “I know, I just… it’s hard for me to talk about the past. It sounds like you know what that’s like.” It was the truth, and it felt raw and vulnerable to say out loud. Potter looked intensely at me, nodding. He got it, I could tell. We both stood there a while, and what had began as a nice meet up started to feel somewhat miserable. 

“Listen, thank you for coming by. And for the zine. Really, that is too kind, and I look forward to reading it. I’m sure it will mean a lot to Scorpius.”

He brightened slightly. “I hope they like it. I do come across a lot of books and other resources- I try to find things for Lily and Albus, stuff that will help them feel more supported in our, uh, “alternative” family structure.” Potter smiled at me then, genuinely. “It’s really nice to get to talk to someone else who gets it.”

I smiled despite myself, grateful for the shift in mood. 

“If I come across any other books or things, I’ll keep you in mind.”

“Thanks, Potter, I’d like that.” There was an awkward pause, and I itched to slip into my house before it got too drawn out. Again, Potter broke the silence before I could make an excuse to get away.

“Do you think, er, that it would be ok if I stopped by again next week?” He got flustered quickly when I looked back at him with obvious surprise. 

“I mean, I completely understand if not. I’m sure you have other things to do, I don’t mean to take up too much of your time… it’s just that, this has been nice, you know?”

I found myself, for the first time, with nothing to say. No quick retort or even civil reply came to mind. I just nodded. 

That seemed like enough for him, and Potter grinned sheepishly before giving me a little wave. “Right, then. I’ll see you next week.” And he turned and headed off down the street. 

I stared after him, unsure of what all had just transpired, but feeling oddly thrilled at the prospect of seeing Potter again in a short time. If only I could make sure he wasn’t tricking me into something… I realized then, a small grin coming to my face, that I knew just who to ask to find out what he might be up to.

>>>>>><<<<<<

Pansy looked fabulous, as always. From the tips of her stiletto heels, to the sharp ends of her perfectly manicured nails- painted today in a deep, sparkly green with rhinestones pressed along the edges. She was breathtaking, really, and everyone in the whole cafe seemed to be vying for her attention as I made my way to her table. That’s my girl. She could turn anyone’s head, regardless of their gender or preferences. Pansy just had that way about her- the unbeatable Slytherin confidence, no matter how many people tried to break her spirit after the war. I admired her, so much. She had been my lifeline when I reconnected to the Wizarding world- my Pansy, refusing to cower. Instead she had insisted that all of us kids on the wrong side of the war- we were worth caring about, no matter how bad we had all fucked up. 

“Draco, darling, so good to see you.” she stood and kissed me on the cheek, and I swear I heard people nearby groan with disappointment that I was now occupying her time, cutting off their chances of catching her eye for a while. I grinned to myself.

“Pansy, my love, always a pleasure.” 

She looked me up and down. “You seem oddly pleased with yourself today. Are you smiling, even?!”

I laughed her off and looked at the menu, trying to hide the blush that was starting to creep up my neck. But alas, she knew me too well.

“Why Draco Malfoy. What have you been up to?” She lifted her perfectly arched eyebrow, clearly expecting a response. 

“You wouldn’t believe it. I hardly believe it.”

“Try me.”

“Let’s order first, I’m famished.”

After the pancakes and egg benedict arrived, Pansy relentlessly leaned in to me. “Spill it, Draco.”

“Ok, so I dropped Scorpius off at King’s Cross a almost a month ago now. And I ran into Potter there.”

She looked completely unsurprised and unimpressed, waiting for me to get to the point. 

“And now, he’s been showing up at my doorstep for the past two weeks, asking me to catch up. We went for a walk the first week, had breakfast the next, and he wants to come by again this Sunday. He even brought a zine, for me and Scorpius! It’s too strange, isn’t it? I was hoping you might know what he’s on about?”

Pansy grinned widely, looking like a shark about to tear into a baby seal. It was magnificent. I loved her thirst for gossip, I just couldn’t help it. “Now this, this is juicy.” Her eyes lit up. “Do you think he fancies you?!”

I turned full on red now. “No, no, I doubt it. There’s no way. It’s Potter, Savior of the Wizarding world. He could have anyone,” I brushed it off quickly. “But really, why do you think he wants to meet with me so much? Know any dirt on him?” 

Pansy knew everyone’s business. She is the only person I know who turned her infamy from the war into all-out fame. Somehow, against all odds, Pansy took the horrid gossip and hatred that was sent her way, and turned herself into a public persona who was as equally admired as much as she was despised. As a form of therapy and redemption, she had written detailed accounts about her role in the war, and shared them with the world to make their judgements of her. And by some miracle, her unflinching vulnerability and genuine remorse earned her quite a following. She became a self-made author and publicist, and now she wrote about other people’s lives for a living, as a gossip columnist for Witch Weekly.

“Oh I do. Absolutely.” She began by telling me all about the family life he had, with Ginny and Luna and how the two of them had conceived Lily with old magical rituals.

“Wait, how do you even know that?! Potter said they aren’t public with that information yet.”

“I have my ways”, she answered, mischieviously. “But I can never reveal my sources. I don’t go around blabbing to just anyone- I do respect privacy, after all, and I know I can trust you. _I_ have integrity with my work. I only tell _you_ because I’m invested in this. It’s too good!”

She twirled her hair in her fingers, thinking. “I’m sure you know he’s an auror, one of the top aurors, really, although he turned down the position of Head Auror when he was 25. Something about not wanting to be on a pedestal, trying to be a regular bloke, that kind of thing. He still works with Ron as his partner in the department. He’s terribly predictable, actually. Funny thing is, since everything that happened at Hogwarts, he’s kept a pretty narrow path. Went right from school into auror training, with a brief detour in Scotland for Mind Healing to treat his PTSD and all the other nasty effects of the war. He is godfather to Teddy Lupin, has the two kids Albus and Lily in his queer family constellation, still spends all holidays at the Burrow, and mostly stays in his old Gryffindor circles. Besides Ron and Hermoine, he’s close with Ginny, Neville and Luna. Once in a while he sees Dean and Seamus, but that’s it, really. He spends a lot of time with his kids.” 

She paused, furrowing her brow. “It’s weird, really. Almost like he’s kind of stuck in the same circles we were in as kids? But maybe that’s comforting for some folks, after all we went through. To have life be normal and predictable.” She sighed, a sadness reaching her eyes for a moment, before she shook it away with a toss of her head. 

“Ron does the same thing too. They’re both good aurors, good dads- on summer holiday they go Shell Cottage and stay with Bill and Fleur, during game season they watch every match the Chudley Cannons play. Hermione’s the only one that seems to branch out a bit, of the Golden Trio. She teaches at Hogwarts one semester a year, works for the Ministry in the Criminal Justice department, and travels summers doing research on different justice systems around the world. Still a real go getter, as always. A prime candidate to be the next Minister of Magic. You know she and Ron aren’t together, right?! Not romantically. Hermione came to realize she/s ace and the two of them are now really good friends. Ron has dated here and there, but nothing serious. They've stayed really close and co-parent Rosie together. Those are the main details I know about Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio.”

I listened, realizing Potter as much as told me everything she just shared, at least the parts about himself. It seemed like he was an open book, with nothing to hide. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I did believe him. He had always been so earnest, something that used to drive me crazy. There wasn’t a sinister bone in his body, and that had both bored and irritated me in school, made me want to get under his skin. Sometimes he just seemed too perfect, truly the Chosen One.

“Hmmm. He’s more or less told me all that in the few hours we’ve hung out so far. Doesn’t seem terribly eventful. But I suppose his life was filled with more life-threatening horrors than most people could ever imagine. I could understand why some might just want to play it safe after living through what we’ve all endured, in our different ways.” It was my turn to sigh, trying not to let the memories start crowding in on me again. “That was never an option for me, but I think I can see the appeal.”

Pansy nodded, looking serious, the sadness back in her eyes.

“I really don’t get it Pansy. Why do you think he’s coming around?”

She stared at me, hard. Thoughtfully. After a moment she took my hand in hers. “Draco, I need you to really listen to me, don’t just shake this off. Potter is predictable, and he does play it safe- he rarely connects with people he doesn’t know from his past. Hell, I even know everyone he’s shagged, and none of them are people he didn’t already know from Hogwarts.” She smiled briefly at that. “I’ll leave those details for you to find out,” she said, smirking at the expression on my face. 

“But seriously, I imagine he is thrilled to reconnect with you. Genuinely and truly. I think he’s scared of opening up to strangers and you are a dream come true. An old adversary- someone who also knows intimately what it was like to live through the hell of the war, and how that changes a person. You’re someone familiar, and yet, different than when we all knew each other.”

I shook my head, I still didn’t get it. 

“I think this is a chance for both of you to sort of, start over. Or at least, to have closure.”

Closure- that’s right. That was the first thing Potter had said to me, when he showed up at my doorstep. I had forgotten, but it made sense now. We had hurt each other more badly than most, and maybe some sort of closure could help us move on after all this time. I nodded. “You’re right, he actually asked me about closure.” I poked at my eggs benedict, suddenly not hungry. I looked at her, and actually felt a bit scared. 

“But how does one actually do that, anyway? How do you have closure?"

She squeezed my shoulder. “By taking chances, love. By opening up a little, speaking from your heart. You have a beautiful heart, Draco. You can do this. And I think it will be good for you too.”

My chest clenched a little as I looked back into her eyes. My Pansy, such an incredible friend. So brave and so kind to me. She had done it- she had bore her heart for the entire world to see, to read over her most personal thoughts in her writing. And the world, shockingly, had loved her back, against all odds. Perhaps sometimes we have to show each other the broken parts to finally see that we are all more or less the same- a beautiful mess, each in our own unique way.

“Ok Pans. I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you, because if you believe in me, that’s all that matters.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Oh honey, no. Promise me- you do this for you, for once. Because you deserve some closure too Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As my good friend Toasted Sesame (who inspired this piece in many ways!) pointed out, the term TERF (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist) is inherently misguided- there is nothing radical or feminist about being trans exclusionary. Transphobia is harmful, and I believe we must always take action to address transphobia in all its forms, and support the leadership of trans women of color especially, which ties into the next point, below!
> 
> **Miss Major, one our incredible trans elders who has helped shaped our movement for liberation through the Stonewall Rebellion and her incredible activism over the decades... she is absolutely magical! For those who may not know, the origins of Pride and our ability to come together as a community to celebrate is because of the courage of Miss Major and many other trans women of color and sex workers who rebelled against attacks by police and state repression against the LGBTQIA community in 1969. There's so much more to the story, I am wildly oversimplifying- 
> 
> You can learn more about her by visiting House of GG, where you get the shirt Draco loves (designed by Micah Bazant) and support the work of Miss Major and other Trans and gender nonconforming people and allies to "create safe and transformative spaces where members of our community can heal—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually—from the trauma arising from generations of transphobia, racism, sexism, poverty, ableism and violence, and nurture them into tomorrow’s leaders. We currently primarily focus on supporting and nurturing the leadership of Transgender women of color living in the U.S. South." They're amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

** Harry **

I changed my shirt for the 13th time, trying to decide if the dark blue button up or the forest green long sleeve jumper looked better. I laughed a little at myself. I had never gotten so flustered and worked up over clothing options before. Usually I just grabbed whatever was most comfortable, or Hermione dressed me if it was a real occasion. But these visits with Malfoy had me reconsidering, just a bit. He looked so good in _everything_. From the charcoal grey button up he was wearing at King’s Cross, to the fitted raincoat, to the… oh Merlin. The lycra bodysuit he was wearing when he came back from rowing. That was breathtaking. 

I chewed my bottom lip a bit, contemplating this turn of events. I had intended for that first visit with Malfoy to be a way for me to satisfy my curiosity, scratch an itch, perhaps. And of course, attempt closure of some sort. I had wanted to see why he lived in Portsmouth while Astoria lived in London. But by this point I had completely forgotten to follow up on that detail- I was caught up in getting to know him, in spending time with him, and couldn’t care less about why he didn’t live with Astoria. Mafloy still never mentioned her, and I realized sheepishly I was glad he hadn’t. For some reason I didn’t really want to know about her, at least not right now. She was so pretty, so lovely and put together, just like Malfoy.

For some reason thinking about Astoria was starting to get me worked up- I would never be as perfectly tailored as her. Was that what Mafloy was into? I gave up quickly on my outfit and went with the green jumper, hoping he liked the color, and walked out of Grimmauld place into the chilly London streets. I hopped on Sirius's motorbike and got it started. Malfoy had yet to offer for me to floo in for these visits, so the motorbike was the easiest way to reach Portsmouth. As I turned over the engine I found myself thinking about what Malfoy’s floo might look like, and how his home would be decorated. I mulled over the details of what kind of couch he might have- something comfortable? Large enough to sit on together and share tea? Or would it be something expensive and tasteful, too posh to ever get cozy on?  I realized as I arrived that I was really hoping he would invite me in. I told myself it was just because I wanted to get to know him better- after all, it had been really nice talking these past two weeks.

I knocked lightly on his door, and in a bit of time he answered, stepping out. He always pulled the door shut quickly when he came to meet me, as if he didn’t want me to see what was inside. A funny feeling passed through my stomach- was it disappointment? That didn’t really seem to make sense. It was fine if he didn’t want me to see his place, no big deal. Right?

Malfoy was wearing a slate blue jumper that made his eyes take on a steel bluish tint. And black jeans, of all things! I had never seen Malfoy in jeans. He looked ridiculously sexy, and I wasn’t expecting that. For the first time, as I took in the sight of him, it dawned on me that Draco Malfoy was _absolutely_ dead sexy. Without a doubt. I almost lost my words, and realized I hadn’t heard a thing he had been saying.

“Er, sorry? What was that?” I blushed all the way up to my ears.

He laughed, his eyes sparkling a bit. “I asked, do you want to go for a walk? Or are you hungry?”

“No, I’m ok, ate a bit before I came. I’d love to walk.”

Malfoy nodded his head towards a motorcycle, parked across the street, near mine. “Let’s hop on my bike then, I want to take you to South Hayling. We can take a walk on the beaches there, it’s lovely.”

I smiled to myself, pleased to hear about this plan. And suddenly I was even more pleased to know I was about to get on Malfoy’s motorcycle, which meant for the first time, I would be able to touch him. I blushed furiously again. This was feeling a bit much, all of a sudden. In the past few weeks, I had just meant to find Malfoy, to learn more about him, and now here I was, getting worked up at the thought of touching him. Maybe I had let this go a little too far….

But when Malfoy adjusted his helmet and sat down, motioning for me to get behind him, I could hardly wait. I carefully stepped over the bike, settling myself in the seat, as close to him as I could be without touching yet. I put my helmet back on and fiddled a little with the straps, just for something to do with my hands. I was suddenly very nervous.

“Is this ok?” I asked loudly, as I tentatively held my arms up to wrap around him. 

He nodded. “Yes, hold on tight. Are you ready?”

It was the permission I needed. I wrapped myself around Malfoy’s beautiful body and pulled myself in close. I held on as tightly as I could, breathing in the smell of him- a woodsy smoke scent mixed with peppermint oil- and smiled giddily to myself as he started the bike and pulled off into traffic, the wind whipping my clothes as we made our way to South Hayling.

>>>>><<<<<

Time with Malfoy passed so incredibly easily. The day we had gone to South Hayling, we spent the whole time just walking along the water and laughing. I hadn’t expected to laugh so much with him. It turned out he was quite funny, with a sharp and sarcastic wit. He told me stories about what all the Slytherins were up to lately, the ones he stayed in touch with- Blaise, Pansy, and Greg. He did incredible impersonations of them, and had me holding my sides, laughing so much I was panting for breath. 

We ended up in a lovely restaurant at Gunwharf Quays, looking out over the water as we ate a late lunch, or early supper- honestly it was hard to keep track of time. I found out all sorts of things, like Scorpius had written and told Draco his best friend at Hogwarts so far was Albus! I couldn’t believe it! Albus hadn’t written me yet, it wasn’t his favorite way to communicate, and I resolved to fire call to pester him about it. When the sun started setting, I think we were both surprised that we had spent so much time together without even thinking of hexing each other. I didn’t want the day to end, but after we finished our meal, which Malfoy politely insisted on paying for, to thank me for the zine, we got on his motorcycle and he dropped me off where my bike was parked. I hadn’t wanted to let go, his body felt so good under my arms….

As we said goodbye, I could swear I saw a hungry look in his eyes- hopefully something like what I was feeling. I wanted to touch him again, so badly, but instead we said goodnight, and I have been looking forward to today ever since.

Today would be our fourth Sunday meeting up since running into each other at Kings Cross, and Malfoy still hadn’t offered for me to floo to his home. I didn’t mind taking my bike, but it was starting to stand out to me that the situation was a bit odd, for wizards. When I mulled over the past few weeks, there were other things that seemed odd too- besides not inviting me into his home, Malfoy really hadn’t mentioned anything about what he’d been up to for the past nearly two decades. The only detail he had revealed to me about his life was really about Scorpius’s gender, not any information about himself, except for he had once owned a book store. And the part where he told me that he was queer, which really was the best news ever. I blushed as I thought more about his queerness, a fact that had been on my mind quite a bit lately, and I figured he’d tell me the rest when he was ready.

When I got to Portsmouth, I eagerly bounded up to his steps and this time he answered the door in another lycra suit, a black one. It was almost too much, I swear my mouth started watering. He smirked at me, stepping out and steering me, once again, to the motorcycle. Watching him straddle that bike in lycra- I swear. Suddenly there was nothing more I wanted than for him to straddle me, just like that, grinding on me in his lycra suit and everything. He turned to look back at me, expectantly, catching me blushing deeply. I quickly put on my helmet and sat behind him, holding on tight, the lycra suit leaving very little to the imagination- it was more like a second skin, and I loved it. I could feel his warmth and hard muscles under my fingers, and I sighed, nestling my nose into his back as he started up the motorcycle.

Malfoy said today’s adventure was a surprise, to dress in sportswear and meet him at noon. For me this meant joggers and a hoodie- I definitely didn’t own any lycra. But he was inspiring me, thoughts of us meeting up both dressed in lycra suits starting filling my mind, and I had to will my cock not to inappropriately harden while we rode to our destination. I tried to push the thoughts away as the motorcycle came to a stop in front of the Cobnor Activities Centre.

Malfoy seemed to know most of the people who worked at the Activities Center- they greeted him warmly as we walked in, a number of them coming up to give him a hug or friendly clap on the shoulder. I watched him interact with different people- he was so at ease, his face lit up with a kind of smile I’d never seen before, looking truly relaxed and happy. I took a moment to appreciate this version of Malfoy, really noticing, for the first time, how much he had changed over the years. These were Muggles, after all, and he showed them genuine respect and care, asking how their family’s were doing, and making other sorts of friendly chit chat. I got caught off guard when he introduced me as a friend, and soon I was being chatted up by various people as they led us to the wharf. 

The surprise, it turned out, was a two person kayak rental, for two hours on the water. Malfoy was delighted as he told me we would be spending the morning exploring Chichester Harbour. The people I had just met waved goodbye as Malfoy, now seated in the back seat of the kayak, pushed off gently from the wharf after we finished the safety review an instructor had given to us.

I told Malfoy I had never kayaked before, and he seemed pleased. “Don’t worry, I’m very experienced. I volunteered here last summer teaching rowing for the camp. Scorpius loved it, and I’m well versed at helping children learn to kayak, so I think I can manage one bumbling Harry Potter,” he teased, good-naturedly. The thought of him helping children learn to kayak did dangerous things to my heart. Muggle children, especially- it was too sweet. 

I realized this was the first time he had ever told me anything about his life- this tiny detail, and I got excited at the chance to know him a bit more.“What got you into rowing?” I asked, trying to sound casual. 

I could practically hear his body stiffen behind me in response. After a moment, Malfoy sighed. “A friend,” he responded quietly. We paddled for a while, and I tried not to let myself feel too disappointed that the little window into his life had obviously closed- I could tell that he was not interested in saying anything more. After more time had passed he said solemnly, “Rowing has been an incredible respite for me. It’s not a very wizard thing to do, I suppose, and maybe that’s why I like it. It feels like flying on a broom, but on the water. It’s so peaceful out here.” 

We paddled around, and I got used to the rhythm of kayaking with Malfoy. There was something captivating about falling in synch with his movements- I could feel his strength in each row, as he steered us through the water with precision and speed. We went all over the bay, and he told me about different bird and plant species we saw, talked about the ecology of the Harbour. Time flew by again, and it seemed all too soon that we were turning the boat around to head back in, our two hour rental already over. 

After we said goodbye to everyone working at the Activity Center, we made our way back to where Malfoy’s motorcycle was parked. Before we got on I turned to face him, making myself look into his eyes instead of at his gorgeous lycra-clad body. “Thank you so much Malfoy. That was really incredible.” He grinned, and that smile of his tugged at my stomach. I suddenly felt a little bold, and took a chance. “I must say, _you_ are quite incredible. Everything we’ve done in these few weeks has been so nice. I enjoy spending time with you.” 

Malfoy stared back at me, eyes wide. After a beat, he seemed to snap out of it and fell into a fit of giggles, which I was truly not expecting. “Um, thank you. You’ve been nice to spend time with too.”

Suddenly I was annoyed, feeling a bit embarrassed as he laughed at me some more. “What’s so funny anyway?” I asked, trying not to sound as hurt as I felt. 

“I never would have thought, the great Harry Potter, calling me incredible. Who knew this day would come?” Malfoy was smiling now, but I still felt like he was making fun of me. 

“Forget it. I should have known better than to give a Malfoy a compliment.”

Quickly the smile disappeared from his face, and his eyes hardened. “What do you mean by that?”

It dawned on me that I was treading into dangerous territory, and I fumbled to recover from the moment. “Sorry, no, I just meant that..um, your ego. You know, in school, you were always going on about how great you were.”

His eyes darkened some more. “Well, we all know that was idiotic. I was a complete prat in school. And, I shouldn’t have to point out that we’re not in school anymore, Potter. That was almost 20 years ago. I would like to believe we’ve all changed, and hopefully for the better.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, and just stared at him, taking in his expression. It was as if a shield had come up over his face, and suddenly he seemed far away, unreachable. 

“I’m really sorry, I’ve messed this up, haven’t I? I meant what I said. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.” 

“I’ve changed more than you could ever know.” He bit out, eyes cold. 

“I believe you, really I believe you. I can tell you’ve changed. I’m so sorry Malfoy,” I desperately tried to take back what I said, but my words started to fumble. I bit my tongue and breathed hard, trying to stop myself from saying anything else I would regret. 

Malfoy was silent, staring at me, his jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to say something, but after a moment he broke eye contact and looked away towards the water. He became very still, gazing out at the bay. I barely breathed, not understanding what was going on, how things had gotten so tense, so quickly. He stood there for a long time. As I watched him, it shocked me to notice that a tear was slowly making it’s way down his cheek, barely visible from the side. Malfoy had not moved at all. 

Finally, he whispered, “I lied to you, out there, on the water.” He closed his eyes and another tear rolled down his face. I stared at him, my heart suddenly beating too loudly, wondering where this was all going. “I told you a friend taught me to row. But there’s more to the story than that.”

He slowly turned back to look at me, the walled off expression on his face deepening the space between us. “You mentioned, when you first found me, the idea of closure. I imagine that’s what you’ve really been after, these past few weeks. So, are you ready for your closure, Potter?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the next chapter is where the sads come in- Chapter 4 is Draco's backstory, which is steeped in tragedy, and I want to give a heads up that there is a character death. It's a tale of love and loss that has deeply shaped who Draco is now, and is vital to his journey towards redemption.


	4. Chapter 4

** Draco **

“ I should have known this is what you’ve been looking for, all along. Coming to visit and just waiting for me to spill out my secrets- the misdeeds I’ve been up to, all the sordid details of my life since the war. You’ve always wanted to keep an eye on me, watching my every move. I know you’ve never trusted me, and I suppose you were right not to. It’s taken me a long time to trust myself. Some days I’m not sure I ever really will. I am a monster, after all. Isn’t that right, Potter?

Did you ever wonder, at the time, what happened to me? What happened to the Death Eaters who found themselves on the wrong side of the war when it finally ended? I don’t think many people did. I imagine everyone was just happy to get rid of us, to move on and forget as much as possible. I know many of your fans thought I got off too easily, after the trials. 

And it really was thanks to you that I did get off easy- ten years probation with no wand, forbidden to practice magic- that was a lighter sentence than most. I know I have never properly thanked you, for testifying for me, and for my mother. So that’s why I’ll tell you everything- I actually want you to know the whole story, all the details. I want you to know how my life turned out, because I truly owe my life to you. This second chance to live, instead of rotting away in a cell in Azkaban, it’s only because of you….

The day we left the trials, we started receiving letters- death threats and hate mail. The owls appeared at the manor all the rest of that day and late into the night. Howlers hovered outside of our windows, blocking the light. My mother did her best to stay strong for me, knowing my father would never be coming back from his sentencing in Azkaban. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to him, and I’m not sure I even wanted to. I still feel unsure when it comes to him. 

We stayed up all night. Neither one of us could sleep, but we couldn’t really do anything either. We just sat there in that huge building, crowded with terrifying memories. I think we both felt a mixture of relieved to be free, and completely on edge, haunted by every shadow in the manor. At 8am we got a knock on the door- some officials from the Ministry, there to talk to us about the terms of our probation. There were six of them, I remember that- two Ministry officials and four aurors. They took our wands from us and broke them unceremoniously, putting them into a box of evidence to take back to the Ministry. It’s thanks to you, again, that I even had my wand back for them to break. Ironic, isn’t it?

Next they read us a long letter that contained a lot of complicated legal language. I was a bit in shock when they read it, but I got the point- the Ministry was confiscating all of our belongings. Our home, our wealth, everything we had to our names. This “repossessing”, as they called it, was part of our punishment, and would go towards repairing the physical damage of the war, paying for the restoration of Hogwarts and whatnot. We were given twenty-four hours to vacate the premises before the land and manor would belong to the Ministry. The aurors would stay to observe that we did not take anything with us, aside from a few items of clothing, while we prepared for our departure.

Lastly they reiterated that under _no circumstance_ would we be allowed to practice magic of any kind, or make contact with anyone in the magical community, aside from each other. We would be under magical surveillance and tracking, and even a simple _Scourgify_ would trip off the spell detectors and land us in Azkaban for twenty years, with no trial. We were effectively being banished from the magical world, and left to fend for ourselves. If we made it through our ten year probation, then an officer would analyze us to see if we were fit to have our wands back and made whole again, or if our probation would be extended. The way they read those words it was clear to me that their hope was to either lock us away, or extend our sentence so we never practiced magic again.

My mother looked like the last bit of life she had in her was draining away before my eyes. It was terrifying, but she stayed strong- as soon as they left she immediately began to contact people, everyone she could, to ask if they could help us. Our owls worked tirelessly, taking messages out, and as the hours passed, we heard nothing in reply. I started to gather together the most basic necessities, without the faintest idea of where we would be going. I packed one suitcase, the smallest one I had from my Hogwarts days, with a few trousers, shirts, socks and pants. 

I remember feeling so deeply numb, looking around at everything I had grown up with- the books about our pureblood history, the Malfoy lineage portraits, the priceless heirlooms… everything that had been in the Malfoy family for centuries, knowing I would never see any of it again. And I truly didn’t care, not in the moment. I just felt so tired. The next day, at 7:30am, after another sleepless night spent walking the halls of the manor for the last time, with two aurors trailing behind each of us, my mother took my hand and led me to the front door of our home. 

“This is it darling. We won’t be coming back here again. Take a moment to say goodbye to our family home, and meet me on the front steps. We are going to visit the Parkinson’s for a bit.”

I turned and looked into the manor. I realized I didn’t want to say goodbye at all. I just wanted to leave, to get as far away as I could from that terrible place and all its horrid memories. I stepped outside and waited for my mother, who joined a few minutes later, tears slowly falling from her face. The aurors locked the doors behind us, and walked us off the grounds, shutting the gates behind our backs. We would never return to Malfoy Manor again. 

It took us hours to walk to the Parkinson’s, even though they lived closest to us. No magic meant no use of brooms, no apparating, nothing. So we walked and kept on walking. I had never felt that kind of pain in my feet- the roads where we lived were not made for walking, and soon my feet were burning with blisters. We walked in silence the entire time, there were no words to say. 

My mother made me wait outside while she talked to the Parkinson’s- it was a very quick exchange. I knew, without having to overhear the conversation, that the Parkinson’s were less than happy to see us on their doorstep, bringing them unwanted attention. They quickly sent my mother back out with a small piece of paper in her hand, closing the door loudly behind her. She looked at me then, meeting my eyes for the first time since we left the manor. She tried to smile, but her voice broke a little as she showed me the paper. 

“This is the name of Mr. Alfred Hall, Frederick Parkinson’s cousin- a Muggle who lives in London. He owns a bookshop, and is looking for help. He had a stroke recently, and is not able to work the shop alone anymore. I think it could be a good opportunity for you, really. You have always been so good with books.”

It broke my heart to see my mother like that. So afraid, trying so hard to be brave for me. Trying to see good in a terrible situation, to paint some hope into our circumstances. “Yes, of course” I played along. “I would love to read more. But what about you?”

She smiled sadly. “I am going to visit a few other families, maybe the Zambini’s. I am sure someone else knows a person who could use some help in their shop, perhaps. But no need for you to worry about that just yet darling. First, let us get you to London.” 

And so we walked, for hours more, not able to use a portkey or the floo network. Not able to do anything but keep walking to the nearest set of simple doors that exist between the Muggle world and ours, much like the wall at platform 9 3/4. There are those small spaces that Muggles don’t notice, and those were the only routes open to us, now cast away from our magic. 

Our arrival in Muggle London was wretched. My mother quickly sold almost all the clothes she had been allowed to take from the manor, at a vintage store on Portobello Road. The little money she received was enough for train fare for her to visit the Zambini’s, and the rest she insisted on giving to me for a short stay at the No.8 Hostel Willesden, while we figured out a more permanent place. She paid the man at the front desk for a week’s stay in the hostel, and then turned to me, taking me gently by the shoulders. 

“Darling, here is 20 pounds. This is all I have left for you to get yourself some food, and hopefully you can be paid at the end of this week. I don’t have much experience with how Muggle money works, but I imagine that should be fair. I will send you a letter as soon as I can, to let you know where I end up. Please do not worry yourself about me, the Zambini’s have always been close to our family, and I shall be just fine. I love you more than you could possibly know. You are the world to me.” She hugged me then, and I hugged her back tightly, both of us fighting tears and gripping on to each other fiercely, not wanting to let go. 

When she finally released her embrace and made to move away from me, I begged her to stay, desperately afraid for her, for both of us. Tears let loose and cascaded down her face as she took me into her arms, softly stroking my hair to try and calm me. “I am so sorry, my darling, for everything. I was not able to protect you, I made all the wrong choices. Those choices caused you to suffer so much, your father and I’s foolishness… I cannot bear to think of it. Please let me do this, to protect you now.” After a long time, she sighed and slowly released me, giving me a small smile. “Stay strong Draco,” she whispered, and turned to walk out the door. That was the last I saw of her for the next five years*.

Saying goodbye to my mother was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Everything related to the war had already broken me- the threats and abuse that led to me finding a way to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, the knowledge that if I failed Voldemort one more time he would kill my family, my role in the murder of Dumbledore… all of it had been unbearable. After the war finally ended I had desperately hoped we would be able to move on, but that was idiotic of me. All the mistakes we made, they kept on punishing us. 

And now, watching my mother leave, knowing she was so scared and vulnerable, that she had given up everything she had left, to help me get a new start- that shattered me into a new depth of despair I didn’t know was possible. I hated myself even more for watching her leave, for not being able to do anything to take care of her in this horrible situation. I vowed that I would save money as soon as I could, and send it to her when she arrived at her next destination. That promise was the only thing that kept me going.

I am not sure how I even made it to the bookshop the next day. I was so numb, a deep misery seeping into every inch of my body. I knocked on the door and it opened to reveal Mr. Alfred Hall, smiling back at me with an expression of such warmth and kindness it could have melted ice off a snowman’s nose. He was immediately, without a doubt, the only silver lining of that terrible time. If you had told my younger self that I would be thoroughly enjoying spending time with an old Muggle when I turned 18, I would have laughed in your face. But Mr.Hall was an incredible man, and I am so lucky to have known him. 

Mr. Hall welcomed me into his bookshop without a moment’s hesitation, pouring me tea and chatting away like we were old friends from the instant we met. It took me by shock entirely, and I realized it was the first time someone treated me with kindness. Not reverence, not caution, not despise, but true kindness. He didn’t care a wit about how much money I once had, or what my family name meant to other people. He was content to simply talk with me about life and the world, so full of mysteries.

At first I was awkward, not used to someone acting so familiar with me. Even my friends had never been so comfortable in my presence. I didn’t make it easy for them, I realize, always acting like I had something to prove. But the charm of Mr.Hall was that he thawed even the coldest of hearts- he was one of two people who really kept me sane in those early days. He had the most generous spirit… in all these years I’ve never met anyone quite like him. 

When he found out I was staying at a hostel, Mr.Hall insisted that I make a home for myself in the storage room of the bookshop. It was a humble abode, and highly illegal by Muggle code. But after moving around some books, getting creative with horizontal space, and buying something called a “hotplate”, together we turned that room into a lovely home for me. I was incredibly touched by how warmly he welcomed me into his life, and over the days and weeks I got to know him, I found myself wanting to return the care that Mr.Hall had shown me back in kind, and I fully committed to pouring my heart into the little bookshop to show my gratitude. 

Over the months that eventually became years as I got to know him, we never ran out of things to talk about. I swear Mr.Hall had read almost every book ever written. My favorite thing about him was his determined enthusiasm for learning. He found everyday things fascinating- the art of crochet was as important to him as the art of philosophy. His enthusiasm was compelling, and I found a part of me thawing, piecing the rest of me back together again, just being in his very presence. He was a Muggle with magic all of his own- the magic of kindness and a relentlessly optimistic curiousity for life. 

The bookshop and Mr.Hall kept me grounded, gave me stability and purpose that I had never known. My whole life I had been raised to value my lineage as a pureblood wizard over everything- to think, act and only care about pureblood customs and culture. The war showed me how very violent many aspects of pureblood culture could become when taken out of context, and both the bookshop and Mr.Hall expanded my view to truly understand how much more wonder and mystery the world held than I had ever been exposed to. He gave me so much perspective on the ridiculously laughable pureblood society I was raised in. I found myself falling deeply in love with books, reading one each day, so that I could have something new to talk about with Mr.Hall and our customers. I owe him so much- it was because of Mr.Hall that I eventually opened a bookshop of my own and named it in his honor when I moved to New York, but that would be many years later….” 

>>>>><<<<<

** Harry **

Draco paused, his eyes turning a cloudy grey. He closed them for a moment, and I realized his hands were shaking slightly. He seemed to be catching his breath. I noticed, for the first time, I had been holding mine too, barely breathing as he shared his story. While he divulged these details of his life with me I realized I was frightened- he was telling me something both precious and painful. It scared me to see this side of him, knowing there would be a consequence to the intimacy. We were sitting close together on a small bench by the waterside, not far down from where the boat center was, and I wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to take his hands in mine. But it was not the right time, it might never be. Sitting with him now was like sitting with a cornered wolf- one wrong step and he could destroy me, lashing out in his own pain. I wanted so badly to show him I cared, that his vulnerability meant the world to me, but I held my tongue, waiting for him to speak first. He opened his eyes again- they were glassy as he stared off into the distance and cleared his throat….

>>>>><<<<<

** Draco **

“ As I said, Mr. Hall was one of two people who kept me sane in those early days. It was Mr. Hall who filled my life with kindness, curiosity and wonder. And it was Jeremy who filled my life with hope….

Those first months in Muggle London flew by, with the pleasure of Mr.Hall’s company, and the bookshop. And surprisingly a number of the customers too, who became a community to me as well. A few of the regulars were my very favorites- there was Perry McLassen, with her two grey cats she brought in every Wednesday afternoon in their stroller, and Mr. Patel who loved mystery novels. And of course Esteban, who could talk about all different types of sustainable architecture techniques, from the dawn of civilization til present day, and the Cheung sisters who were always up on the latest young adult science fiction novels. 

One day, about nine months into working there, a group of young Muggles visiting from San Francisco came in to the shop, stunning in their flashy outfits- sequined crop tops, tight fitting hot pants, flourescent platform shoes, all that sort of look. They were brilliant and friendly, a few of them batting their eyes at me and chatting me up while appreciating the LGBTQIA book section that I had been slowly building up during my time working there. The group was excitedly telling me of their hopes for finding handsome strangers for thrills during their time in London. I never had men flirt with me so boldly before, and I found myself softening to their friendliness. 

And they were so _fun_. This group, five of them in total, were fearlessly and shamelessly gay, and ready to drink up all that London had to offer. They were completely shocked that I had never been to a gay bar, a “pretty boy like me”, and insisted on taking me out for the night. And well, it was the first time the promise of fun had been offered to me since the war had started, and I found myself enthusiastically saying yes. That night, after I closed up, they came by and I piled into the cab they hailed, setting off for my first gay club, the possibility of pleasure warming the midnight air. 

I quickly realized, upon arriving at the Admiral Duncan, that I absolutely did not know how to dance to the terrible electric music that gay Muggles seem to adore. So when the boys went off to the dance floor, I ordered myself a whisky and stood against the wall, shoved in between different groups of men loudly talking and laughing together. I watched for a while, taking it all in- the bright lights, the sweaty bodies, the unapologetic cruising. It was mesmerizing, and for the first time since the war, I actually felt a little bit free. I had always known I was queer, but I was too terrified to do much about it, other than my furtive on and off fling with Blaise during 6th year. Father would never have approved, and I have to admit I was more afraid of his wrath than I was of Voldemort, had Father ever found out my preferences when he was alive….

Eventually my eyes found another’s looking back at me, curiously. The young man watching me was incredibly handsome- dark hair and dark eyes, with a smile slowly widening as we held eye contact. He looked a bit like Jake Choi*, the actor, do you know who he is? My point is, this man was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person in the room. He nodded in my direction, and motioned to his drink. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought maybe he was offering to buy me one, and I dug up a strangely Gryffindor type of courage and walked over to him. 

To say the attraction was instant is an understatement. I hungrily took in every detail- his dark lashes that batted twice every time he smiled. His lips, looking so invitingly soft and pouty all at once. His hands, elegant, with obviously manicured nails. Jeremy was a perfect dream I never knew I had. The conversation was easy and we forgot about the drinks entirely, lost in the subtle art of flirting, slowly leaning in towards each other as we struggled to talk over the thumping music, until we found our arms touching. That touch sent electricity through my entire body, and it had the same effect on him. He immediately took my hand in both of his, stroking his fingers along my palm up to my wrist, never breaking eye contact. I swear his touch was more compelling than any batch of Amortentia could ever could be. I think I was shaking when he finally leaned in and asked, “come home with me?”

He had a motorcycle parked outside, you know the one. It’s one of many treasures he left me, and I love that bike dearly. I feel him with me every time I ride….We got on and I wrapped my arms around him, my heart beating so hard my whole body shook with it. 

When we got to his flat we were frantic with kissing and rapidly undressing each other. He tasted like whisky and promise and I pulled his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and marveling at the soft heat of his skin. He pushed my hands away from where I was struggling with my shirt buttons and started skillfully undressing me while still kissing with a passion that burned through me. He touched me everywhere, wild with want and need, and it was so dizzingly good, and then suddenly he went completely still- I opened my eyes and took in his startled expression as he stared at my chest. I had been so caught up in the moment I hadn’t stopped to think about… about what I looked like. His hands trembled as he slowly lifted them from where they had been moving over my scars, and I held my breath, waiting for his reaction. He put his hands to his own chest, and I heard the quietest whisper fall from his lips- “how could someone do this to you?”

His question, so deep and personal, would have enraged me at one point. A mere Muggle, asking me as if he had the right to know… instead, the serious tone of his voice reflected something entirely unexpected- genuine _care_. Jeremy, without knowing me at all, actually cared about me, about my story, about what I’d been through. He gently reached out and took my hands in his, ever so slowly. Then he looked up at me, his jaw squared, and an intensity filled his eyes. “I will never hurt you like this. Never.”

The sincerity of his words hit me like a spell, and it had me undone in seconds. My knees gave and I fell at his feet, too raw and exposed to be ashamed, tears and sobs suddenly unleashed from all the places I had been holding them. All the pain and grief and rage from the years of carrying the damage that Voldemort and the war had brought to my life, it finally boiled over in that moment. And I couldn’t stop crying- nobody had ever really _seen_ me like that- had seen me and the pain I was carrying. Not a single person in my life until then had cared to looked deeply enough to see what lives under the layers of protection I’ve always so carefully woven around me.  Jeremy saw the places I had been hurt, and promised not to repeat those wounds. The strangest thing was, somehow in that moment I knew I could believe him. It didn’t matter that we had just met- I could feel the ways we both had cracks in our souls, and he didn’t turn away from mine. Wails I never knew I could produce tore through my body, and I felt sick with grief, crying it out until it felt like I would vomit. And the whole time Jeremy held me through it, gently stroking my hair….

When I woke up I was wrapped in a blanket, on a couch, not far from where I had collapsed on the floor. I must have cried myself to sleep, I couldn’t quite remember. I stood up quickly, looking down to see my shirt was still open, and my chest was bare. I felt so incredibly embarrassed, at all those ugly scars, at my ridiculous behavior the night before. I was still a Malfoy, after all, and I had never done something so vulnerable in my life, let alone with a stranger. I heard a sound behind me and flinched, whirling around, instinctively feeling at my hip for a wand that wasn’t there. 

Jeremy emerged from an open door with a pot of tea in one hand, and a teacup in the other. “You’re awake,” he said softly, almost reverently, and gave me the most stunning smile, like I was a treasure he had just discovered, and he was the luckiest person in the world. 

You see, there was something about Jeremy- he always made me wonder if there was a piece missing that wizards could never understand about worlds beyond ours. Because Jeremy was indeed a Muggle, but there was an essence about him so caring, so soulful, it cannot be described in any language I know. With his understanding and patience he cast his own kind of spell that completely transformed me- it was Jeremy who helped me put all of my own pieces back together again. He showed me how to love myself, and I fell dizzyingly in love with him in the process. Together we helped each other heal those cracks in our souls.

From that first date on, Jeremy never pushed, he never prodded. He just knew that I had been through too much, and that love was the only way to help put me back together again. I was beyond embarrassed after that first night, when I had bawled like a baby at his feet, and I would have happily melted away and never seen him again. But that morning he asked me to stay, to stay and let him make me breakfast. And, much to my own surprise, I stayed. 

What started as a shy and painfully sweet invitation to breakfast became many more breakfasts, many late mornings spent in bed until we both had to rush out to work, and sometimes we’d stay in bed all day on the weekends, content just to be in each other’s company. Jeremy loved to read as much as I did, and every holiday- Valentine’s, Boxing Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Lunar New Year, Spring Equinox, any excuse we could find, really, we gifted each other books. Mr. Hall and Jeremy truly adored each other, and when Jeremy came to visit me at work we would often stay up late at the bookshop, drinking tea and discussing our favorite reads until the three of us got too sleepy and had to stumble home. Some nights, Jeremy would stay with me in the back room of the bookshop, but more often than not, we’d go to his flat, and over time the flat became less of “his” space, and more of “our” space, and then on our one year anniversary Jeremy made my heart sing when he handed me the key and asked me to move in with him. 

Jeremy was always a puzzle to me- I never understood how he could be so loving. Whenever I would ask him, he would just laugh and tell me another version of how it made him happy to make other people happy, and it was just that simple. But it wasn’t as though he had been raised to be that way, his parents were tight with affection. He told me, months into us dating, that his mother had never once hugged him. The only physical affection he had from his father was a handshake, when Jeremy had done something that his father considered worthwhile- graduating uni, getting a job as an accountant, eventually moving to England to work at a investment company. But they certainly hadn’t congratulated him when he left that job a year later to pursue his dreams of being a kindergarten teacher. His parents had moved from Korea to Hong Kong to start a business when he was eighteen, and they never visited. He went back each winter to see them, and each year they became more distant. They knew he never had a girlfriend, and that he was a beautiful boy, too pretty to be the kind of son they could ever love.

Instead of crumpling under his parents rejection, Jeremy redirected the love they never gave him, and channeled it into his students. He was so sweet with kids it made my heart ache. Sometimes I would come to “volunteer” in the classroom, just to watch him teach. He taught kids to love themselves, and to accept each other, no matter what differences there were between them. Many of his students came from hard times, but his classroom thrummed with joy and laughter. He had a way of creating a sanctuary for the kids, a respite from the chaos of their everyday lives. I wish so much that Scorpius could have met him, I tell them stories about Jeremy all the time….

Between the completely undeserved care and I received from Mr.Hall and Jeremy, I found myself changing. As I’ve told you, I had never before been treated with such kindness in my whole life. My mother has always loved me, yes, but these were people who didn’t know me, who treated me with respect just because that’s who they were. And their magnificent hearts made me want to be a better, kinder person too. Their love was a balm, and I wanted to give that love back to the world.  And so, beyond pouring my heart into the bookshop, showing kindness to customers, helping Mr.Hall to the best of my ability, and being the best boyfriend I could possibly be, I started to take on my own cause as well. Me, Draco Malfoy, caring about something beyond myself and my status, volunteering my time to help Muggles no less! Can you believe it? 

And so, in addition to helping out Jeremy sometimes in his classroom, I started a volunteer shift at the local LGBTQIA center, organizing the youth Queer Open Mic night. I was twenty by then, and the youth ranged from thirteen to around my age. They had been thrown out of their homes for coming out as gay, or trans, or genderqueer, or another version of beautiful that their families refused to try and understand… I took all the generosity I received from Mr.Hall and Jeremy and put it back into the world through the community I built with the youth at that Queer Open Mic. It was the most special space, so tender, it was community in the deepest sense of the word, we took care of each other. I kept that space going even when I moved to New York, many years later, hosting a weekly open mic nite for queer youth at my bookshop.

Before I get ahead of myself, however, I want to be clear that it wasn’t always easy to receive the kindness that both Mr.Hall and Jeremy were offering to me- I won’t pretend times were always rosy. In that first year, the more I warmed in their presence, the more anxious I became that I didn’t deserve them. I was a Death Eater after all, the worst kind of monster. Mr. Hall knew what I was, he was related to the Parkinson's after all, but when I brought it up to him one day he just said, "Son. You have a good heart. All I want to know is, how are you gonna use it? How will you make things right in this world? I see you doing right every day, and it makes me proud. And I know you will keep doing right Draco, and that's what matters to me." 

But Jeremy.. he had no idea. I started obsessing a bit on my secret, and began pulling away from him, convinced I would taint him in some way.  But instead, Jeremy slowly drew the truth out of me, refusing to let me push him away with that patient determination of his. I couldn’t tell him, obviously, that I was a wizard who had joined the wrong side of a war, who contributed to the death of so many of my classmates and some of my teachers. That I had harbored one of the most vile and evil beings in my home, did his bidding, carried his Mark, had sat by and let people be tortured in front of me and was too cowardly to stop it…. B ut nothing escaped Jeremy- he noticed the way I flinched when he touched my Mark, and he took care not to let his hands linger there after the first time it happened. 

Eventually I pieced together a story that I felt was as truthful as I could dare to be without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. I told Jeremy my family and I had been in a gang called the Death Eaters, and had worked for someone vicious and terrible. I told him all the horrific things I had done- watching my Aunt torture people, kids the same age as me, who hadn’t done anything wrong. I told Jeremy all the names of everyone who had died because I found a way to let the Death Eaters into a safe house, I told him all about everyone who was dead because of _me_. 

You see, I had to tell him that I was a terrible person who did not deserve his love, so that he could get away from me, and not have my toxic soul poison his beautiful one. He just listened when I confessed it all to him, watching my face. After I finished, he told me over and over again that everyone deserves a second chance, and that I was not the same person I had been… he could see it in the way I showed up for the kids when I came to volunteer at the kindergarten, he knew by the way I held space for the youth at the open mic. He saw the ways I cared, really cared, and did what I could to make their lives easier. He told me that I was still a good person, even if I had done horrible things. That I had changed, and was redeeming myself with the ways I was helping others. Honestly, I didn’t know if I should truly believe him, but I was selfishly so relieved he didn’t push me away. I just wanted to stay with him so badly, and that was my mistake, being selfish once again.

I shared a wonderful five years with Jeremy. Those years transformed me more than I could ever say. It was Jeremy who loved the water, he said it reminded him of Hong Kong, which is surrounded by water. He introduced me to rowing, and it was the first time I had ever experienced something that felt like flying- it burned through my body, the ache to be back on a broom. But rowing with Jeremy in the mornings became it’s own sort of magic, and I loved the feel of stroking through the water, propelled by my own body and breath. I even joined a rowing team- imagine that! Me and my Muggle friends, rowing on the water. It was surreal, as a wizard, to be doing such a thing, and it was the most peaceful I had felt in years.

About four and a half years into our relationship, Jeremy caught the flu. It didn’t seem strange at first- it was winter after all, and I gave him tea, read to him and made him soup like we usually did if either of us got sick. But the flu kept lingering. Five days later his chills and fever seemed worse, and he had so little energy, so we went in to see the doctor. They ran some tests, and asked me to wait in the hallway. The appointment ended up lasting a long time, the kind of long where I could feel it in the pit of my stomach- with each minute that passed, it became clear to me that something was about to turn my world upside down. Sitting in that hospital waiting room, I felt everything, everything slipping away from me. And there was nothing I could do to get it back. 

It was well past midnight when Jeremy was released. They told us we would have to come back soon for more testing. And we did, and the news went from bad to worse, and the days wore on and Jeremy was so tired that he slept most of the time. And I held him while he rested and gently stroked his hair the way he loved to be touched, and stayed up all night watching him sleep. A part of me had always suspected something like this would happen, because I didn’t deserve something or someone so beautiful as Jeremy. My Mark had poisoned me, and cursed me to lose those I loved, the way I had caused so many people to lose their loved ones during the war. 

And I knew I deserved it, I deserved all the punishment. But Jeremy- he was so sweet, so gentle, he didn’t deserve someone like me, worming my way into his life and poisoning him with my terrible past. I can’t tell you how many times I wish it had been me instead. If I were given the chance, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to go back and take his place, to let him live… I would hunt down the Resurrection Stone, the Cloak, the Wand, all of it if I still could. I would risk it all to bring him back- I don’t care what you think, throw me in Azkaban, I dare you. I would do it al 100 times over just to see him again.

Those last six month of Jeremy's life were a torture I would never wish on anybody, not even on Voldemort himself. To watch someone you love be hollowed inside out by a cancer that feasted on the very core of their bones… to see the light slowly flicker from their eyes and eventually go out all together….There is nothing like losing someone slowly and being powerless to do anything. Jeremy dying very nearly killed me too, and every day I wondered, if I was still allowed to practice magic, if there was something I could have done to save him. Wizards simply do not die like that, we do not die of a common illness like the Muggles do. But I knew I was on my own, there was nobody who could help, and if I even tried to reach someone the Ministry would just lock me away in Azkaban, taking me away from Jeremy when he needed me most. So instead I had to sit with the horror of my mistakes, and watch my love die before my eyes. 

So you see, Potter, I continue to be punished for everything I did in the war. You and all your aurors and the Ministry don’t have to worry- I am still being taught a lesson, every day I wake up without the warmth of him beside me, without being able to hold him in my arms. Each day that passes and I don’t get to hear Jeremy’s voice, see his dazzling smile lighting up the room, laugh at those silly inside jokes we shared together. I lost the love of my life because of what I did out of my own stupid cowardice, at first trying to please Father, and later just trying keep my family alive, fighting desperately for a cause I knew was evil. And I know we all had choices, even if my family was being threatened. I know Voldemort tried to kill you and the people you loved too, and you made the right choice, the noble choice. But not me. So this is what I deserve- the most incredible love I could have ever dreamed of, watching him slip out of my life without being able to try any spells or magical support that might have saved him. 

And you know what? I did break the law, eventually, damn the whole thing. I am not ashamed to admit it, and you can hold it over to me if you want- I told Jeremy everything before he left this earth. In those last weeks, when he was halfway on the other side, barely breathing or coherent, those days when he didn’t recognize me through the haze of painkillers, I decided to tell him. Statue of Secrecy be damned, I needed him to know who I really was- Draco Malfoy, a wizard who loved him with all of my heart. I spent hours telling Jeremy all about Hogwarts-Quidditch, the Forbidden Forest, the war, Voldemort. I wanted so badly to let him know all of me, to leave this world knowing who I really was, with no secrets between us. 

There was one day, right before he passed away, when his eyes refocused for a moment, and I knew Jeremy could see me. He smiled so big then, and took my hands, his mind lucid and clear for the first time in weeks. He motioned for me to move closer, til our foreheads touched. And he told me, “Draco Malfoy, I’ve always known you were magical. From the moment I saw you across the bar, you were a star that appeared in my life and lit the whole world up. There was something special about you, and when our eyes met, I knew you were who I wanted to spend my life with. I wish it could have been longer, my love, but I can’t imagine a better way to have spent my time here on this earth. Draco, you are magical, and not just because you are a wizard. Because you have the most beautiful heart and the most gorgeous smile and I will carry your memory with me into the mysteries beyond. And I’m not afraid because I got the chance to love you in this life, and I know that the next one will be blessed because of it. I will love you always.” 

And then I lost him. He was gone, so final, so forever. There are no words to describe how much I wish I could have shared all of myself with Jeremy, to have brought him to see all of the places I’ve loved, to introduce him to my mother, to show him the world of magic, to have gotten to grow old together… but I couldn’t, and I never will. Because I’m Draco Malfoy, and I’m a monster. And I got what I deserved.

So there’s your closure, Potter. There’s your justice. I hope you’re satisfied knowing the bad guys always get what’s coming to them, in the end. And I’m still one of the lucky ones- at least I have Scorpius, and my friends. I probably don’t deserve them, but I will do everything I can to keep them safe, to let them know I love them while I still can.”

>>>>><<<<<

** Harry **

Malfoy finished his last sentence in a whisper. His eyes fell closed and tears that had been steadily sliding down his face as he described his last days with Jeremy continued to fall. We sat there in silence for a long time. All I felt was a burning ache in my chest, a sadness that threatened to eat away at everything I had told myself about being on the right side of the war, and everything I have justified doing since, as an auror. The sun was slowly being covered by clouds, a cold wind picking up over the waters, sending a shiver through me. Sitting beside me, Malfoy looked so tired, and fragile. 

“Malfoy”, I mumbled gently, “I’m so, so sorry. I know words will never be enough, but I really want to let you know I am so sorry- for everything. You don’t deserve any of that. Nobody does.”

Malfoy’s eyes snapped open immediately. He turned to look at me, face stoic and impassive. “You can’t possibly believe that. You’re an auror, Potter. Your entire life revolves around hunting down and punishing people who have done bad things. Sending them to Azkaban, never seeing the light of day again. Do they deserve that? People die in there, you know. Your own Godfather was left to rot in there. Father died in there after 15 years in a cell, surrounded by Dementors as his only company. But I suppose if people have done something terrible, they deserve it, isn’t that right? And I am one of those monsters, you know. The only thing that stood between me and Azkaban was you…other people have not been so lucky. They never got a second chance.” Draco laughed hollowly, slowly standing up. “The irony of it all, Potter.”

My heart started beating in my ears, stomach twisting as I thought over what he just said. Aurors had broken his wand, the law had stopped him from being able to use magic to help Jeremy in any way. Aurors had taken his father, both times, to Azkaban, never to return in the end. Suddenly I could see myself how Malfoy must see me- someone to enforce the law, to inflict judgement and carry out punishment, and it scared me. “But you aren’t a monster- you had a change of heart in the end. You protected me, you didn’t sell me out when the Snatchers brought me in at the Manor, and I know you knew it was me.”

“What difference does it make, Potter? It’s true that I lost my taste for the Death Eaters along the way, but what if I hadn’t in time for you to think my soul was worth saving? People like you would have locked me away forever. Would I have ended up slowly losing my mind and dying in Azkaban, just like Father? Who are you to say who deserves and doesn’t deserve punishment? Everyone can change, Potter. Everyone can, if given a chance. Mr. Hall and Jeremy gave me everything I needed to make that change- they showed me love and kindness and understanding. Even when I told them the horrific things I had done. They knew I was a monster, but they also knew, at the very core of their values, everyone can make a change if given the opportunity. They gave _me_ a chance to be someone else, someone better than I was. But you and your aurors, your Ministry… they make the rules, and you follow orders. None of you give a fuck how it impacts anyone.”

“Well what would you do, Malfoy? Just give people a slap on the wrist and let them go? Is that what Voldemort deserved?! After he killed my parents?! You think he could have _changed_ if he was _loved_ enough?! Do you think if he had enough hugs he wouldn’t have turned into a mass murderer? Do you know how stupid you sound?!” I was yelling now, suddenly furious, losing control at hearing Malfoy’s condemning words. 

He glared at me, eyes shining a deep silver as he narrowed them. His voice came out low and cruel.“If I’ve learned anything from the people who have been in my life since the war ended, it’s that care begets care… but I should really stop talking now. After all, what do I know? I’m incredibly _stupid_ , obviously.”

We stood there glaring at each other then, fuming so intensely that the air around us started crackling with magic, and the faint smell of ashes started to cloud around us. Eerily it felt like a flashback to 6th year all over again, and I shook my head quickly to break the moment. 

“You’re always going to hate me, aren’t you?” I whispered, suddenly realizing. Malfoy said nothing for a long while. The cold wind continued blowing over the waters, the sun hidden behind a blanket of gathering storm clouds, and the sky starting to take on a grey at the edges. 

Instead of answering, Malfoy broke eye contact and looked away, clenching his jaw. “We’d best be getting back now. I’ll drop you off at your bike.” He stood up and walked quickly back towards the Cobnor Activities Centre parking lot, and after a beat I willed myself to get up and follow him. On the ride back I surprised myself by noticing my own cheeks were wet with tears, slowly falling as we wound our way back through the streets of Portsmouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sending love to everyone who has lost a loved one to cancer, my heart goes out to you. I hold many of my family members in my heart as I write about this loss, may all our loved ones who have passed from this illness rest in peace.
> 
> * Narcissa Malfoy, without who there would not have been a chance to defeat Voldemort. Her love for her son was a truly saving grace.... Her story in this universe is after she left Draco in London, she was on her way to take a train to the Zambini's when she was approached by a volunteer from the Calais refugee camp, who was trying to raise donations for the camp. Narcissa ended up signing up to volunteer without hesitation, seeing this as a sign from the Divine. You see, Narcissa is actually very skilled in medical care, something that she did on the side while keeping up her role as a Death Eater. She would have been a nurse, if it had not been for the war, which ripped that future away from her. Her skills were soon put to use in the medical station at Calais, and she was eventually connected to Médecins Sans Frontières, who she eventually ended up working for. For years she travelled to different places where her skills were needed, but often came back to station in Calais. This work ended up being her passion and calling, and she still does medical support for refugee communities to this day. MSF, as an aside, does really powerful work, if you'd like to check them out.
> 
> ** Jake Choi- I really wanted to use a reference for a queer (specifically Jake Choi identifies as sexually fluid) actor who also has good politics. I respect that Jake Choi consistently uses his platform to support social justice work including the Black Lives Matter movement.


	5. Chapter 5

** Harry **

I woke up the next day and immediately knew there was no force in the world that could drag me in to work. Suddenly I couldn’t face it- I didn’t want to go to the Ministry. I had never felt that sensation before, a pit of dread forming in my stomach as I imagined pouncing on another dark wizard, casting an _Incarcerous_ and sending them along to Azkaban, as I did almost every week. Malfoy’s condemning words circled in my head- was I doing the wrong thing? It’s true I had never taken time to question my work.

Ever since I discovered I was a wizard I was also put on a life path to fight the world’s most evil and dangerous wizard, and hopefully win. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter. If I had, I definitely wouldn’t have chosen to spend my childhood fighting evil, watching my friends die and running off to destroy horcruxes. No thank you. I’d so much rather have become a professional Quidditch player, or even a Hogwarts professor maybe, like Hermioie- I loved the times we spent teaching the others during the height of Dumbledore’s Army, I just wish we hadn’t had the threat of death lingering around us at every turn. 

Wasn’t it the right thing though? To stop dark wizards from hurting other people? Of course that was right. I knew that. But what I was starting to question was what happened next- was sending them to Azkaban the right thing? I remember the times I had to go there to visit, on auror duty. I would have nightmares for at least a week after. The walls reeked of desperation and madness, I felt sick every time I got near the place. There’s not a lot of wizards I can think of who have made it out of there with their soul fully intact either. 

When I thought back over my cases, after all these years, there had only been five wizards who were let back out of Azkaban, their time served. And all of them walked around with a vacant look in their eyes. I would see them at the Ministry when they came in for their parole interviews- they always had a haunted expression, like there’s something else standing between their reality and ours, something terrible lurking in the corners that nobody else can see.

If Malfoy’s assessment was true, then doesn’t that make me the monster, if I’m the one sending people away to their suffering in Azkaban? But those evil witches and wizards, they were all the bad ones, weren’t they? And we definitely need to do something about the terrible things that people get up to with bad magic, there's no question about that. But what if there was something else besides Azkaban, something in between, another option, that could be better for everyone involved? 

My chest burned with shame to realize I had never even considered such a thing. I started feeling a little sick, and took a moment to sit down. I called for Marshmallow, my little owl, and scribbled out a note to send to Ron. I’d come in to work later, maybe after lunch, but first I had to get my head sorted. I walked into the living room, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the mantle. I knew Hermione would be plenty busy, but when things got this way, when the world felt twisted up in knots, she is the only one I know who can make sense of it all.

>>>>><<<<<

“Hermione? Do you have a moment?”

I heard a yelp of surprise, followed by a swish of robes as she made her way over to the floo. 

“Harry? Everything alright? You’ve never called me at this hour. Are you at work already?”

“No ‘Mione, I’m not. I’m in a bit of a pickle, having an existential criss and whatnot. You know, going round the twist again.” I tried to grin, but I’m pretty sure I just looked pathetic.

“Hmmm. Well, it does happen from time to time. What are you doing for lunch? Shall we meet up?” 

I breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione was truly the best friend I could ever hope for, and I made a mental note to do something extra nice for her this week. “Anywhere you want ‘Mione, thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

She smiled back knowingly. I had a feeling Ron told her I had been moping a bit after dropping Albus off at King's Cross. “Ok, let’s go to our usual spot. I’ll see you soon Harry.”

A few hours later, I paused to catch my breath after apparating to Holborn to meet Hermione at the Fryer’s Delight. We ordered, and within minutes I was spilling my guts to her, frantic to hear her opinion, hoping she could help set me right. Hermione’s voice was serious as she finally spoke, breaking the silence after I unleashed my torrent of swirling concerns to her over our fish and chips. “So now you’re not sure you want to be an auror anymore?”

“No, it’s not quite that. I mean, I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? But Malfoy’s got a point, hasn’t he? We don’t really give people a second chance. I hadn’t really thought about it much, I’ve just been so focused on trying to protect people, but I haven’t thought about who it might have hurt along the way.”

She looked at me for a long time, clearly thinking things over. “You know, in my travels I have seen a few different Departments of Magical Law Enforcement that seem to have a different approach than we do here in England. The branch in Amsterdam, for example, offers rehabilitation to wizards who deal in illegal potions, rather than immediate imprisonment. And it’s not just a wizard approach- the culture of the Netherlands is different in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. Isn’t that fascinating?! In the Muggle world, the entire population of the Netherlands has a little over 10,000 people in prison, whereas in England and Wales we have a prison population of over 80,000 people as of last year. Of course there are more people living in England, but our prison population is still over 2.3 times the number of people imprisoned in the Netherlands, relative to the population size. And yet, crime rates in the Netherlands are much lower than they are here, so that’s really saying something*.”

I stared at her wide-eyed, trying to follow her logic. She always spoke with so much conviction, and was clearly informed on the subject. “I think I follow. So you’re saying putting people in places like Azkaban doesn’t necessarily make things safer?”

She nodded, looking grateful that I had picked up on what she was trying to explain. “So do you think we’ve been doing things wrong Hermione? Should we be doing something different? It’s really on my head, isn’t it? Me and Ron, being higher up aurors? If we’re messing up, we should really do something, don’t you think?!”

There must have been a bit of a desperate tone to my voice, because she smiled softly and gently took my hands in hers. “I love this about you Harry. I love your commitment to justice. It’s truly one of the many things that has kept our friendship strong over the years. I’ve appreciated all of your support with my campaigns for the liberation of house elves, and the programs I’ve been involved with to provide inclusive healthcare for Werewolves… you’ve always had an incredible heart Harry. I know you want to do what is right. And I think what Malfoy said about the treatment of prisoners in Azkaban is unfortunately true… I have actually been doing a bit of research on it myself, with a few others. I’ve been hoping to work on a campaign for rehabilitation to introduce to the Ministry. I was planning to talk with you and Ron about it as I got more research to support my proposal. I’d like to think all of us who have been through the war have developed a distaste for extending suffering more than is necessary.” 

She paused to take a deep breath. “I suppose what I’m saying is, I agree with Malfoy. Imagine that! But yes, I agree with him. It is beyond time for the cruelty of imprisoning people to places like Azkaban to be addressed. There is another way, Harry, and I believe we can get there.”

Her lip quivered for a moment and she bit it, blinking hard. She let go of my hands, wiping quickly at her eyes and sighing. “There’s always more work to do, so much we need to fight for. And I know you know how hard it can be. The traditions and practices of the Ministry are steadfast, and have been in places for centuries. I know I’ve rocked a lot of boats in my campaign work, I’ve made as many enemies as I have friends. But it’s always worth it. It’s going to be a lot of work, and we’ll have a lot of opposition. As I said, I’ve been talking about this with a few other researchers internationally, and slowly putting together a team here in London to see if it’s possible.”

She paused to smile brightly at me. “If we- if _you_ decide to do this, we have to go all the way, and as I said, this is not going to be easy. You won’t be popular, even with your history in the Wizarding world. Is this really what you want Harry? Have you had enough time to think it over? Have you talked to Ron?”

Even as she was asking me, I could tell Hermione was hoping my answer was yes, I could tell by the way her fingers tightened a bit around her napkin that a part of her was feeling nervously eager for me to take this on. Because it meant something, didn’t it? To take a look at the ways we have always done things, and be willing to change them for the better.

I smiled back at her, watching her hand relax as she smiled back at me. “Honestly, I’m not sure, but I want to give it a try. I don’t have all the answers, but I trust you, and I know you’re probably talking to some of the smartest people in the world about this if you want them on your team. So yeah, I’ll talk to Ron today. Let’s do this Hermione. It reckon it’s the right thing to do.”

>>>>><<<<<

Ron had been surprisingly easy to convince. I hadn’t told either him or Hermione the whole story that Malfoy had shared with me, about Jeremy and everything- it hadn’t seemed right, it was so personal. I did tell them that I had been catching up with him since running into him at King's Cross, a fact that neither of them had been at all surprised by, which made me blush in a way I chose to ignore. I shared with Ron the feedback Malfoy had given me, about the harm that imprisonment had caused to his father’s mental health, which eventually contributed to his death. I told him bout how terrible Malfoy’s probation sentencing had been- how he lost someone important to him, and wasn’t able to use magic to help them because of the Ministries laws.

Ron looked thoughtful, and after a long silence, he finally gave a sigh and looked at me. “I reckon we should consider something else if it’s for the better of the Wizarding world. Honestly we’re just getting older, aren’t we mate? I think my days chasing wizards have lost some of their appeal. The more time passes from the war, the more I question how much it makes sense to keep seeing the world in good and evil. I think there’s a lot more going on than that, and I know I’ll never have all the answers. But yeah, Azkaban gives me the creeps and I can’t imagine ever getting better if I ended up in a place like that. I don’t know how to make it different, but I trust Hermione and want to hear her ideas. I think we try and should give it a go.”

I smiled to myself, feeling a flutter of hope in my chest. My friends were truly endlessly incredible. I gave Ron a big hug, and as I pulled away I saw that his eyes, like mine, were shining with unshed tears. 

Later that day, Hermione owled me to let me know she had already contacted some of the folks on her team and they were setting up a schedule in the coming month to interview formerly convicted wizards to head up part of the rehabilitation proposal for the Ministry. “The best solutions are those led by people who have been most impacted by the current laws,” she emphasized in her letter.

It was a thrill, to be taking on something new, to be looking at my life and everything about it in a new way, and then setting myself to the task of changing it for the better, alongside two of my best friends, two of the people I trusted most in this world... in the excitement that had followed my initial conversation with Hermione I hadn’t let myself think over how I was feeling about my last interaction with Malfoy though, beyond the part about examining the role of the aurors in serving justice. But now it was Friday, and sitting alone in the parlor of Grimmauld place after a late pub night with Gin, Luna, Hermoine and Ron, spent talking excitedly about the upcoming proposal for the Ministry, my thoughts circled back to Malfoy. 

Malfoy, who had unknowingly helped put so many of these pieces into action. A flicker of shame came over me as I toed off my shoes and peeled my socks off one by one, tossing them to the side. I had lost my temper, acting every bit the idiot I had been around him back at Hogwarts. It was embarrassing to still behave that way, it was unhealthy to fall back into those kind of reactionary patterns. I know what Malfoy had said about second chances had struck a deep chord in me. A part of me always held on to hatred of Voldemort, it was the only way I could have killed him, could have completed my task. And I know it was the right thing to do, or it was something I had to do, rather, to keep other people safe. But that didn’t mean I had to keep that kind of hatred going for the rest of my life. I felt tired. I didn’t want to hate anyone anymore, I was about to turn forty, and it seemed like enough time had passed for me to let some of that go. Could I do actually that, with Malfoy? With myself? Could I really let go of some of the anger I still held on to and give people a second chance? I flicked my wand to get a fire going, staring into it, lost in my thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * These facts came from https://www.prisonstudies.org/sites/default/files/resources/downloads/wppl_12.pdf   
> In the words of the study, "the information may prompt fresh thought about the size of prison populations, given the high costs and disputed efficacy of imprisonment and the fact that prison overcrowding is widespread." Certainly some of the arguments for abolition, though not the most compelling ones in my opinion. Two groups I find very inspiring as leading work in different aspects of abolition are: 
> 
> Critical Resistance http://criticalresistance.org/
> 
> TGI Justice Project http://www.tgijp.org/


	6. Chapter 6

** Draco **

I’m truly an idiot. I should know better than to bear my heart to Harry sodding Potter. The absolute wanker. Am I such a pathetic fool that I need him to absolve me? It’s embarrassing after all these years to still feel the pull to have him like me, want to spend time with me, to think I’m special….

It’s addicting though, isn’t it? Those ridiculous lopsided smiles, his atrociously messy hair, and those startlingly green eyes looking me up and down. It’s just too easy to get pulled in to his chaos, and I’ll have none of it. I should have never let my guard down in the first place. Fuck Harry Potter.

After Potter effectively leveled my spirit by blasting all of my years of loss with his callous words, I came home and cried my heart out to Pansy through the floo. She and Blaise wasted no time in planning a weekend trip to Paris to cheer me up- I truly cannot imagine having better friends. I am ever grateful that we were able to pick up our friendship and grow even closer after I completed my decade of probation, finally allowed to safely make contact with other people in the Wizarding world. Most days I still can’t believe how deeply they care for me, but Slytherins stick together, and I have learned to trust in their love and return in back tenfold.

And so, in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I found myself grinding into a beautiful stranger who smelled of ashes and curiosity, the blue and pink lights of the club glinting off his eyelashes as we moved together on the packed dance floor at La Mutinerie. Pansy’s laugher drifted over the music as the crowd pulsed together, glittering and lost and triumphant… I lifted my eyes and drank in Blaise’s sly smile meeting mine over the shoulder of the sexy beast who was plastered to his chest, and I let myself feel just a little bit free….

>>>>><<<<<

** Harry **

I had a feeling this was one of the worst ideas I could have ever dreamed up. And I have a lot of bad ideas, so that’s really saying a lot. But I’m famous for being more reckless than logical, and I had to at least give it a try. Still, I was cursing the sheer Gryffindor nerve that kept me putting one foot in front of the other as I slowly forced myself to walk up to Malfoy’s doorstep. My heartbeat was thundering, and honestly I was terrified of how he might react, but I needed to know. I needed to know if I still had a chance at… at whatever it was we had been doing.

I knocked, and my heart leapt when the door started opening a few moments later. And then it fell into my feet when Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy’s head poked through to peer down at me. 

“Why Harry Potter, such a surprise!” she said smoothly, in a voice that made it sound like seeing me on Mafloy’s doorstep on a Sunday morning was not such a surprise at all.

“Oh, hi Astoria. I hope I’m not bothering you, I was just um, wondering… um. Yes, well, is Malf-… I mean, is, er, Draco in?”

She smiled, looking amused. “He’s away this weekend. That’s why I’m here, to take care of the plants.”

I bit my lip, heart fluttering hard, and I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly so concerned that Malfoy was away, and tried very hard not to think about where he had gone, or who he was spending time with. Especially when I was standing face to face with his wife.

Astoria stared at me while I tried to figure out what to say next, and then she clicked her tongue, shaking her head slightly. “Listen darling, so long as you are here, how about we have a cuppa? I know a cozy spot nearby, it would be a pleasure if you would join me. How about it?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling very nervous, but knowing it might look suspicious if I turned her down. After all, I had been spending all this time with her husband, and I had no idea what their arrangement was. Not that we had done anything odd, per se, but I did often fantasize about seeing her husband naked these days… so it seemed only the right thing to do to have lunch with Malfoy’s wife, if only to loosen the chain of guilt that started to twist around my guts.

Astoria stepped back and called out behind her, “Hey love, I’m stepping out for a moment. Harry Potter is here, and we’re going to have a cup of tea. Would you mind finishing watering in the greenhouse my love?”

A click of heels echoed faintly, coming closer, and the door opened a bit wider, revealing an incredibly gorgeous woman dressed in a sheer negligee. “Harry!” she exclaimed sweetly, and I could not hide my shock.“It really has been such a long while.”

“Er…” was all I could think to say, trying hard to look her in the eyes, rather than down into her very impressive cleavage. 

“It’s Hannah, Hannah Abbot. I do suppose the last time you saw me I was a fair bit younger, and wearing a bit more clothes though, no?” she laughed easily, turning to Astoria and kissing her deeply. “You two run along and have fun” she said, winking at Astoria. “I do hope we get to catch up sometime soon,” she said with a giggle and a wink directed my way, before turning around and clicking back into the house.

Astoria smiled widely, taking in my surprised expression. 

“Oh Harry, there is so very much to catch up on. Let’s go have ourselves that tea.”

>>>>><<<<<

Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy, apparently, has an enormous sweet tooth, and a very dirty mouth. As soon as we left Malfoy’s workshop she launched into a full monologue, not pausing for even a moment to let me get a word in. Which was absolutely fine by me, because my mind was being blown by absolutely everything she was saying. But now that we were out for tea, she had been silent for the past five minutes at least, only pausing to let out little sighs of contentment as she tore through the huge array of tiny cakes and crumpets she had ordered. All for herself, mind you, not offering even a bite to me.

But I was grateful for the respite, truthfully, and even the sight of her sucking honey off each finger wasn’t enough to distract me from thinking back on the juicy tidbits she had shared with me on our walk over to the cafe…. 

_“Oh Harry, darling, I am so happy to see you here today. Funny that it takes two decades for you stubborn boys to finally get up the nerve. Is it funny, or is it tragic? I really can’t say. But truly, what is taking you two so long? You’re about to turn forty for Merlin’s sake! Time to take this Bicorn by the horns, is it not?! Honestly the sexual tension was always thick enough to cut with a dagger, even in the middle of a bloody war! Can you imagine the lay you’ll have when you two finally work it out?!_

_My goodness I cannot wait for the day! Draco will spill all the juicy gossip, you see. That’s one of the perks of being married to a Malfoy, I’ve finally earned that precious place of trust to get all the good stuff! And you know Draco, he loves telling stories. Those impressions he does? Surely he’s done some for you, such a riot._

_Oh and don’t you mind me, in case you have your knickers in a twist about our marriage and all. Surely the great Auror Potter can’t be so dense you don’t already realize we have an arrangement. Not that we aren’t truly married- I’ve loved Draco ever since I was just a girl you see. I adored him the moment he stormed into my life, all pouty lips and silver eyes… don’t you love that petulant mouth of his? And you know those eyes are a dream. So sexy._

_You know we were introduced when I was just 10 years old, and it was impossible not to be taken with him in some way. Such a stubborn child, the biggest troublemaker, he always made me laugh. It was years later I realized that my childhood crush on him was something much different than I had imagined. You see, I do prefer snatch, and currently Hannah Abbot is my lover of choice. Such a salacious witch, that one, you wouldn’t believe what she can do with her tongue!!_

_Anyway, as I was saying, Draco, well he brought out the wild side of me. We were dear friends, and at rare moments we were lovers too. But it was different- I loved him, yes, and I found him maddeningly attractive, but I knew it wasn’t in the way most people expect. Do you know what that’s like? I imagine you might not. There are so many ways to love a person, truly._

_At any rate, I never forgot him, even years after the war, he was on my mind. When I found myself ready to identify a donor for my child, I knew it had to be Draco. And so I campaigned your Ministry and finally, after over a year of putting in requests, I was given Draco’s information, and had permission to visit him two years before his probation ended. Do you realize I was the ONLY non-Muggle who was allowed to see him during all those years of probation, aside from his mother? Such a cruelty, your laws, to separate a magical being from their community. We even married just so that he could have visitation rights, or you lot would have forbade him from seeing his own son, can you believe?! I’m so fortunate I knew the right strings to pull, or our darling Scorpius could never have been born, and you would not believe the loss that would be to the Wizarding world. Scorpius is such a darling, with very special magic._

_Now, mind you, I didn’t choose Draco because of the pureblood nonsense, you have to believe me. Don’t be so simple minded. I chose Draco because that boy is magical, and I don’t mean just a wizard kind of magic. No, Draco is something else. He’s special, and it takes a special someone to recognize that- he’s fiercely loyal, and funny, and loves his chosen family with all of his heart. He can talk with plants and his potions are made with a level of care and intention that is rare to find in this world. You wouldn’t believe how gorgeous his gardens are… he loves those plants so much. Do you know that he's one of the top potioneers in the trade? He went to New York to study with one of the top masters there for several years, as an apprentice, and he is excellent. He's humble now though, he probably never mentioned it. Can you believe it- a Malfoy, humble! Stranger things have been known to happen, I suppose, people do change after all. Ah New York! I do miss it, Scorpius and I used to love visiting Draco there._

_And oh of course Draco can be an utter prick, I don’t deny that for a second. He was a right little shit in school, and a terrible coward, but he was up against some horrific things. He’s told me more than I’d ever care to know about the trauma of watching Voldemort torture people while he lived with that maniac. Do you know that Voldy walked barefoot because he loved feeling the warmth of fresh spilled blood under his feet? How incredibly despicable, that demon…. The fact that Draco has survived through that kind of horror with his heart and mind intact in any kind of way is a miracle in my opinion._

_And he’s changed so much, as I’m sure you know. He’s grown up, and his heart is bigger than anyone I know. Those years living with the Muggles did him a world of good, even if it did break his heart in the process. He told me he shared with you about Jeremy, and Mr. Hall. I had the pleasure of meeting Mr.Hall, but alas, Jeremy had passed nearly three years before Draco and I reconnected. It takes quite a lot for him to share about them with just anybody, so I suspect, you know, that… well, I suppose that’s for Draco to say. We’re here! This is my favorite place! Perfect timing, I’m famished!”_

Laughter broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see Astoria smiling at me wickedly. “Knut for your thoughts, Harry? You looked quite lost in them. Thinking about a certain blonde?!”

I blushed furiously and tried to regain my composure, stumbling for words.

“Oh relax Harry,” she said, cutting me off. “It really is too easy to rile you up. I can see why Draco fancies you. Not that he would ever tell you that, mind, but I’m honestly bored by the two of you. Clearly you showed up today to win him back? Because you are terribly predictable Harry, you always have been. You love chasing a wounded dove, don’t you?” Her eyes glittered with amusement.

“I don’t know what you mean by that Astoria, and I think you must be wrong about Draco fancying me. I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

Quickly her amusement vanished, replaced by a much more serious expression as she stared at me over her empty plates of cake and crumpets. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Harry, but you are trying to court my Draco, are you not? Then let’s be adults, and let’s communicate clearly. Please don’t be a stereotype.”

“Uh, I, um…. what?! What stereotype?”

Her eyes narrowed quickly, and for a moment she reminded me of Malfoy. Maybe it was the Slytherin in them- she looked ready to hex me, and for a second I was worried. “The stereotype of a stupid, stubborn cis man who can’t talk about his feelings. That’s boring Harry, it really is. I’m not interested in doing the emotional labor of putting two and two together for you. If you cannot put it together for yourself, then let’s order the check and wrap this chat up, shall we?”

Her words shook me and I stared back at her. Nobody had ever been quite so up front with me, except for perhaps Hermione when she got frustrated with me for being an ass. Guilt rippled through me quickly, realizing that maybe Hermione had been stuck doing the emotional labor of getting me to communicate when I was being too stubborn all these years. I felt a flicker of shame, and closed my eyes, concentrating on what to say that was really true for me. I remembered that first day I visited Malfoy, when I realized I had to speak from my heart, because he could sense codswallop coming from a mile away. Apparently he and Astoria had that in common, and I had better not mess this up. 

“Okay. You’re right, Astoria. I’m not exactly sure what is happening though, and that’s the truth. My feelings for Malfoy are complicated. In a lot of ways we’re only just getting to know each other again. He is really different from when I knew him at Hogwarts, it’s true. But it’s hard, there’s a lot of history. We almost killed each other, you know? It’s fucked up, we treated each other horribly. That history keeps holding me back, but it also makes me feel closer to him. Because we both saved each other’s lives too. It’s confusing, it feels unhealthy to be attracted to him because of all that, but I still am, so I don’t know what that makes me.”

She looked at me, nodding slowly. “Right. Go on.”

I exhaled slowly. “Honestly I don’t really know what I want. I don’t know what’s alright to want. I like spending time with him, and I’d like to get to know him better. I want to see if we can make things different, since we’re not enemies anymore. At least I think we’re not? Maybe we can become something else, and even help each other heal from all that hurt from the past? Is that even possible? I think I want that but I don’t know, I’m still figuring it out myself. All I know is I really like spending time with him. I guess I really, really, really like spending time with him? And yeah, I want to find out more about who he’s become.”

Astoria’s expression softened, and she smiled a little. “I appreciate your honesty Harry. You might find this amusing, but honesty is actually very important between Slytherins. And I believe you will be very pleasantly surprised what you find out if you let your interest in Draco grow. It’s alright if it takes time, and it’s alright if you don’t know all of what you want. But if you really, really, really like spending time with him, and you want to find out who he is, that’s a great start. I will warn you though, if you hurt him, I will hex your bollocks off. I don’t give a rats ass if you are the bloody savior of the Wizarding world.”

I smiled at her, despite the threat. It was sweet, in a weird way, how Slytherins look out for each other. “I would absolutely never want to cross you Astoria. And I quite like my bollocks, so I’ll do my best to keep them.”

She grinned back at me. “Splendid. Then it’s all settled. You will be a grown up and when we get back to Draco’s I expect you to write down what you just told me on a scroll and owl it to Draco straightaway. As I said, this is the extent of the emotional labor I am willing to do for you two idiots. I love my Draco though, and even though he’ll pretend to be cross with me for this chat we’ve had, in the end I know he’ll thank me. And you will too- he’s quite the shag.” 

I coughed my tea all over the table at her words while she had a good laugh at my sputtering. “Oh don’t be so prude, Harry. Draco and I may both be bent in different ways, but we are _queer_ after all. And we are both stunningly attractive people. So yes, once in a great while, if the mood hits us, we have a go at it. And I have a most impressive dildo collection, and my Draco’s just a wild slag for a big cock, so it all works out great. I’m a magnificent top, I’ll have you know, and he does royally as a switch. He’s got a few really delectable tricks up his sleeves, that one, but I’ll leave all that for you to find out. Trust me, you sending him an owl is the best decision you’ll ever make.” She winked lecherously at me and then waived for the check. “My treat today, Harry, but next time I do expect it will be you taking me out as a thank you for all the magnificent sex you’ll be having.” 

I honestly can’t remember if I even said another word the rest of that morning. I was too shocked to respond, and Astoria apparently had no trouble with my silence, easily talking into the air, regardless of whether or not I was listening, amusing herself with little stories about how much she loved visiting Portsmouth on our walk back to Malfoy’s- er, Draco’s? When we got there she told me to wait on the steps, and disappeared into the house, emerging with a very excited Hannah Abbot and a crisp sheet of parchment, inkwell and quill. 

“Alright then Harry, I expect you to use your big man grown up words and let Draco know exactly what’s going on in that sweet head of yours.” Astoria and Hannah laughed delightedly and stepped to the side, talking together in hushed whispers as I took the quill and steeled my nerves, spreading the parchment over the closed door for a surface. Dipping the quill into the ink I took a deep breath, willing the words to come out.


	7. Chapter 7

** Draco **

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

_No. This is not happening. What the fuck is that noise? It’s not even noon yet! Who is up making a racket by my window at this ungodly hour on Sunday?!_

I willed the incessant sound to _go away_. 

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap!

Apparently my hungover magic sucked, because soon the noise had only gotten louder and faster and ever so much more annoying. I threw the covers off me, ready to throttle whoever is making that infernal sound.

The light was far too bright for my sleep deprived eyes, but the blurry images came swiftly into focus as I looked around. Two figures were splayed out over the big king bed in my hotel room. I let my gaze drift up to their sleeping faces and smiled to myself. I pulled well last night- these two were very cute. I grinned at the memory of dancing til the club shut down, first with an adorable leather daddy and later with a gorgeous drag queen, eventually inviting both of them back to my hotel where we did a brilliant job of wearing each other out til we finally dipped into a delicious sleep which was being rudely interrupted by an owl at the window. 

I sighed grumpily, and then the possibility dawned on me that Scorpius might be trying to reach me, and that got me moving a lot more swiftly, peeling myself out of the warm sheets and making my way to the window. I took in the sight of Astoria’s owl, Delphine, and my heart started thumping wildly- surely nothing was wrong? She usually fire called me to communicate, but I was staying in a Muggle hotel this time.

I quickly let Delphine in, stroking her beautiful chest feathers in the way she liked, to appreciate her hard work as I unwrapped the scroll from her leg with shaking hands. “Thank you darling, thank you for your long flight. I will look for a treat for you in just a moment dear, please let me make sure this is not an emergency first?”

I unrolled the scroll, scanning quickly, and my eyebrows almost jumped right off my face. What the hell kind of joke was this? I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the messy scrawl and set the parchment down. I definitely needed a drink and Delphine needed a snack before I took the time to truly decipher what that fool was scribbling about. Damn him. 

I went to my bag and unpacked my traveling kit, which I hadn’t needed up until this moment. Inside was an assortment of magical tools I like to travel with in case the opportunity arose- clippers for taking plant cuttings if I visited a local botanical garden, a Muggle camera for sightseeing and the like, a small selection of potions, and of course floo powder and owl treats should I need them for communication. One ought to always be prepared, and since I spent so many years cut off from the magical world, I now took magical tools of all sorts wherever I went, comforted just by having them with me. 

Delphine delighted in the treats, swallowing them down with enthusiasm. I set her on the back of the couch in my suite, and she busied herself with preening, cleaning up from her long journey. My lovers from the night before were still sleeping away, and I thought better about having another drink. I only drank occasionally these days, and never enough to blur the lines of acting sensibly. I did want something to calm my nerves though, so I reached back into my travel kit for a hangover potion and one of my smoking blends.

I chose the one that had Rose, Chamomile and Mullein, steeped in Hawthorn potion. Just the right thing to to steady my heart enough to read the contents of the letter. Grabbing the parchment, I curled up on the couch next to Delphine and lit up, taking a long drag, letting the smoke slowly curl out from my nostrils as I began to read.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_I came to visit you this morning, I really wanted to apologize._

_I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said._

_You are right._

_I am sure you love hearing that, but actually I mean it._

_You are right_ _. People do deserve a second chance._

_Maybe if Tom Riddle had been given more of a chance by Dumbledore and others when he was younger, he may never have become Voldemort, and all of our history would have been rewritten._

_I want to believe in that world, and I want to work towards that world being possible._

_I’d be lying if I pretended it doesn’t scare me a little to think this way, but it scares me more to think that maybe it’s me who has become the monster by locking people up, by standing with the law rather than taking a chance._

_I’ve already talked to Hermione, and what’s amazing is she has been researching different rehabilitation programs already!_

_Of course she has, she’s brilliant, and this matter has already been a concern for her for years, apparently._

_She and her research team have been compiling information to put together a solid proposal of a rehabilitation program as an alternative to immediate sentencing to Azkaban, and together we’ll bring it before the DMLE and Ministry in the coming months._

_I’ve offered to help her in whatever way she needs, she thinks my support will be helpful to sway the rest of the auror team, but it won’t be easy._

_I’d love to hear your thoughts on the proposal, if you’d like to see what she’s come up with so far (with the tiniest bit of help from me, but I really can’t take any credit, she is the brains of it all)_

_Ok, now Astoria is telling me I’m stalling._

_Her and Hannah are standing here with me right now and Astoria wants you to know that you’ll thank her later, and that you know what that means._

_I came here today because I truly am sorry._

_For everything, over all these years._

_I never meant to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you._

_I’d like to spend more time with you, I’ve been really enjoying the time we’ve spent together._

_Ok, now Astoria is telling me I have to be more bold, and tell you what I told her this morning-_

_I really, really, really like spending time with you._

_I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what you want, and I don’t know what it’s alright to want, but I would like to get to know you more._

_I hope you would like to get to know me more._

_I hope you can give me a second chance, and maybe we can prove to each other that there’s no such thing as monsters, and that everyone can change._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

Ugh. Damn him. Damn him to hell. This boy will be the death of me after all. Not by _Sectumsempra_ , not by a lifetime sentencing to Azkaban, but with his usual earnest Harry Potterness. Damn him.  My heart was a wreck of emotions, so I grabbed the hotel phone and dialed Pansy’s room. I let it ring over and over and over again until she finally picked up.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck is calling me?!”

“Pansy! Wake up you slag! I have important business! I need help!!!!!!!!!!” I heard a lot of cursing and a loud thump in the background.

“This had better be good Draco. You have no idea. Morning sex is my favorite, remember? You complete tosser. You saw the gorgeous babe I pulled last night. I have half a mind to hang up on you.”

“Oh Pans, I am _so_ sorry” I said, rolling my eyes. “But this is a bit of an emergency, love. None other than Harry Potter himself has written me a parchment, saying he really, really, really likes spending time with me. And Astoria is behind it all, the wench! Can you believe her?!”

Pansy’s voice brightened immediately. “Oh my goodness. I’ve been waiting for this. It’s too good. I’ll be right there. Well… I’ll be there very soon. I just have to finish a few things.”

“You slag…. Get Blaise please! I’ll meet you in 10 minutes, my suite.”

Precisely forty five minutes later my traitorous friends finally showed up at my door. I opened it and sniffed, putting my nose in the air and stalking away from them, throwing myself down to sulk dramatically on the couch. 

“Darling, darling… we got here as fast as we could. Honestly it’s all Blaise’s fault, you know how hard it is to wake him.”

“Oi! You woke me up 2 minutes ago! I rushed here!”

Pansy turned to stick a tongue out at Blaise, who reached out and took her up into his arms, twirling her around the room. “It’s time to celebrate! No long faces.” He walked over and hoisted me up into his arms next, spinning me around, leaving me dizzy and giggling, with no hope of maintaining my pouting. 

“Tell us everything.” Pansy’s eyes glittered with delight as we all cuddled into the couch, Blaise’s chin tucked onto my shoulder to peer at the parchment. I laughed and proceeded to read them the letter, acting out Potter’s awkward cadence, and inserting my own opinions about Astoria’s big mouth as I finished. Blaise’s smile shone brilliantly as he looked at me. 

“Draco, dear, whatever shall you do. The Golden Boy as good as confessed his undying love to you! If I recall correctly, this was one of your top three wanking fantasies, if my memory of truth or dare nights serves me right.”

Pansy laughed wickedly. “Oh yes, definitely top three. Up there with being spit roasted by Cedric Diggory and and Victor Krum!” Her smile faltered a bit after the words came out. We all took a moment to breathe, the memory of Cedric’s death drifting into the spaces between us. 

Blaise broke the momentary silence, reaching out to squeeze us both on the knee. “A lot of time has passed, and a lot has happened since then. All jokes aside, this is a really big moment. How do you feel about it Draco? Do you believe him about second chances? He really heard you out mate, doing the work of partnering with Hermione on a proposal for rehabilitation and all that. I mean, he’s a big deal auror, with Ron. And he’s taking what you said really seriously. That’s huge Draco.”

I stared back at Blaise, taking a moment to really consider his question. I reached out and took both of their hands in mine. If anyone represented second chances, it was these two. Pansy, with her transformation from villian to somewhat of a underdog hero. Blaise, who I had dragged into the room of requirement all those years ago, almost an accomplice in capturing Harry himself, but instead emerging as one of the best Mind Healers to ever work for St.Mungo’s, specializing in supporting those who have experienced racial discrimination and other forms of racial violence in the Wizarding community. His work had made such an impact that he was training his own interns, and was on his way to creating his own department within St.Mungos, to address systemic racism in the Wizarding world.

“Look at you two. You both are two of the most incredible examples of second chances I could ever be so blessed to know. I’m not sure if I believe in second chances between me and Harry, but because of you two, I am willing to give it a try.”

They both smiled at me, so radiant it made my eyes start to water, tears threatening to slip out, when a voice cut through our heartfelt moment- 

“What’s all this? More people for the party? What a lovely treat to wake up to!” giggled Gingembre, if I am remembering her name correctly, while she batted her lashes at us, sitting up on the bed with a mischievous look on her face. 

I grinned back at my friends. “Well, I imagine the two of you might have some people interested in a party waiting for you in your rooms? Bring them back in here and we’ll order champagne and pancakes! I believe this is an occasion to celebrate. Let’s leave Paris on a high note!”

>>>>><<<<<

** Harry **

_Dear Harry James Potter,_

_As always, you are charming and eloquent._

_Let us continue this conversation in person- my wards are now open to you, simply speak “Dragons’ Lair” (don’t laugh) when you enter the floo._

_I will expect to see you next Sunday, at our usual time of 9am._

_I shall have tea ready for us, and I will be having a word with Astoria about her meddling in the meantime, such a naughty witch…._

_With Curiousity,_

_Draco Greengrass-Malfoy_

I kept reading Malfoy’s letter over and over last night, and now I held it tightly in my hands as I looked up at the clock. 8:35. It felt like time was purposely going slower just to torture me. I really couldn’t believe my luck when his letter arrived on Monday morning- I had spent all of Sunday jittery and quite sure I had made a complete ass of myself. But after receiving Malfoy’s letter, I didn’t know how to feel. This whole week I had been a mess of emotions, everything from elated to terrified to quite sure I had made a terrible mistake to absolutely certain I was on the precipice of one of the greatest moments of my life. I drove Ron absolutely starkers talking about Malfoy all week- I had finally caved and told him everything on Monday. He was still one of my best mates after all, and even though it was hard for him to accept that Malfoy was someone I was excited about spending time with, it also hadn’t really surprised him much.

“Mate, I’ve known you since we were eleven. You and Malfoy… drove me and Hermione right up the wall the way the two of you would obsess about each other. There was always something going on between you and him, all those years. I reckon we were all too busy trying not to die, but yeah, I guess it makes sense it was more than rivalry. I don’t know what it was for you, or for him, but I hope for your sake he really has changed. He’s still responsible for so many people’s deaths, you know?”

“Do you really think that Ron? He never actually killed anyone. I did, _I_ actually _killed_ somebody. And I am just as responsible for people’s death- if I had gone to Voldemort right away, he would never have attacked Hogwarts. We’ve been through this a thousand times Ron. You know how I feel, and I know you're my friend and you try not to look at the parts I’m responsible for too… I’m not trying to make excuses for what he did during the war, or for what I did either. I think, after all these years, I can see how me and him, we're not so different. We both were put in really terrible situations, and we did what we could to make sense of it. I know he’s no hero, but I don’t think he’s a villian either, and that’s why I spoke at his trial. He was just a child during the war, a pawn like me, and he had a chance to turn me over to the Snatchers, but he didn’t. Like I said, we’ve been over this a thousand times. How are we going to move on? We’ve all lost so much already.”

Ron stared at me hard, the expression on his face tight and unreadable. I was sure he was about to go off on me, but to my surprise, instead of yelling, Ron broke into tears. “I wish I could Harry. You know I wish I could. I miss him too much, I miss him every day. I miss my brother, I always will, and it’s easier to blame Malfoy than you. It’s easier to blame him than blaming myself for not doing more to protect him. I miss him so much.”

Ron’s voice dropped to a whisper as tears collected on his eyelashes, slowly making their way down his cheeks. “I don’t know know how to fully move on, and part of me is scared to. Like somehow I’ll lose Fred a little bit more if I try to actually move on… I know that’s not true, but it scares me. Some days I’m not sure what to do, it hurts so much.”

I reached out and took Ron into my arms, holding him close for a long time as he cried. “I understand, I understand,” I murmured over and over again. Eventually Ron stopped crying and slowly broke out of my embrace, giving my arms a gentle squeeze as he let go. He took out his handkerchief and let out a sigh as he wiped at his puffy eyes. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever like Malfoy, mate. But I don't want to carry this rage around either. I know he was a kid, and I don’t even want to imagine what he went through, having to live with that monster during 7th year. I know he suffered too. And I know Fred wouldn’t have wanted us all to be suffering still in his name. Hell, Fred would be loving this. Him and George would probably be placing bets on how long it takes you two to snog, and who kisses who first, all that rot.” Ron smiled grimly. “It’s gonna take some getting used to Harry, but life’s short, innit? And you know I trust you, so if you really think Malfoy will make you happy, we’ll, then let’s find out? You know I’ll be there to keep him in check if he acts like a tosser. Which he probably will.”

We smiled at each other then, and not for the first time, I thanked my lucky stars that I had such amazing friends.

Tears prickled the back of my eyes as I reflected on Ron’s words, and I wiped at them, adjusting my glasses and blinking back at myself in the clock face reflection. 8:58. I took a deep breath, grabbed some floo powder, and stepped into my fireplace, calling out “Dragons’ Lair” into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks! Next chapter is full of filthy smutty Drarry. And working through all the feelings...


	8. Chapter 8

** Harry **

My heart thundered against my ribs when I stepped out from the floo, right into the middle of Malfoy’s library, apparently. In the middle of the small room, filled floor to ceiling with shelves upon shelves of books, lounged Draco Malfoy, draped on a loveseat. He looked positively edible as he held my gaze. Dressed in a tight black t-shirt with even tighter grey jeans, the look in his eyes made the hairs on my neck stand up, and my cock immediately started to harden. 

“Potter, so lovely to see you.” 

I nodded, words stuck in my throat. 

He arched an eyebrow at me, and then smirked. “Tea?”

I nodded again, still unable to get my mouth to work well enough to respond.

He stood gracefully, and motioned for me to follow him into the next room. We stood in a modest kitchen, where a spread of tea and biscuts awaited on a cute table set against the wall. Malfoy walked purposefully towards the table, sitting on one side and gesturing for me to sit in the empty chair across from him. My brain could barely work at this point, and I was grateful he was taking the lead. 

“So, Potter. Apparently you really, really like spending time with me. Do elaborate.”

I cleared my treacherous throat. “Wow, right to the point Malfoy! Okay, so… erm…well yes, um, you see, I have quite liked the past few weeks with you. I never got to actually know you in school, you know?”

His face went still for a moment, and I could see him start to pull away, the shield that appeared when we had our argument starting to slide into place. Quickly I reached out my hand and grabbed his, the instant heat at our touch sending sparks down my arm- we both jumped and I let go quickly. His eyes were wide as he stared back at me.

“Er, I’m sorry, I just wanted to show you, to tell you rather, that I… it’s not about school, not about those times before. I’m sorry, I’m really awful at this okay? I just mean that I want to get to know you more. You’re funny and intelligent and great company and you have really good taste and you like to go on adventures and you’re interesting… and well, you’re ridiculously sexy too.” I stammered, rambling and rushing my words all at once. My cheeks were burning so hard with embarrassment they hurt, and suddenly I couldn’t look at him anymore. 

After a moment, Malfoy cleared his throat, and I raised my eyes tentatively. “Now, _that_ I can agree with you on,” Malfoy smirked, his silvery eyes staring into mine intensely before flickering down to my lap, making their way slowly back up my body, his gaze hungry.

I licked my lips. 

His smile grew wider, and he leaned in towards me. “Maybe some things are better left unspoken for now? I know words can be hard for you, Potter, what say we try a different way to communicate?” Malfoy chuckled, his laugh coming out low and sultry. 

I found myself staring at his lips, my breath suddenly coming quicker. 

Malfoy slowly reached out his hand, a slender finger brushing aside a piece of my hair that had fallen in front of my eyes, and tucked it behind my ear. “You are truly beautiful” he whispered. “I want you Harry.”

Something broke in me, and everything happened so fast. Before I knew it I had reached across the table, grabbed Malfoy by the collar and awkwardly hauled myself into his lap, grinding against his solid body, sucking at the delicate skin of his neck. It was stupidly ungraceful and hurried and ridiculously hot. 

The room went completely still and exploded all at the same time. I don't know if the moaning sound was coming from me or Malfoy or both of us, but nothing mattered. I wanted, _needed_ to get closer to him, to take in every bit of this beautiful man that I could reach with my tongue, sucking in his sweet taste. He smelled of smoke and roses, tasted like wind over the ocean, and lit up every part of my body where he ran his skilled hands over my skin. 

Malfoy’s tongue was hot and forceful as he licked along my neck, making me shudder. I felt so gloriously exposed as he firmly held a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back and baring my neck to him while he sucked over my throat. His hands guided my face back down to his, and he stared hard into me, lips so close to mine. “What do you like Harry? What do you want me to give you? I want to make you feel so good.”

His words made my already hard cock ache. “Everything, _everything_.” I sighed, letting my eyes close, grinding hard into him. He chuckled again, that deep laugh. “So needy, Potter. How badly do you want this?”

“So bad Malfoy. I’ll do anything.”

His grip in my hair tightened, forcing my eyes open with the shock of pain from it. “Really?” he asked, eyes serious.

“Yes. I want you Malfoy, I want all of you. Anything you want.”

He smiled slowly, and released my hair. 

“Sit.” He commanded, pointing at the chair I had left behind. Reluctantly I got off his lap and sat on the edge of the chair, hungry to have my hands back on him.

Malfoy stood, looking down at me, and held eye contact for what felt like eternity. He seemed to be thinking something over, weighing out options, and then the air in the room became electric as he made his decision. Malfoy reached for his wand, and gently waving it over himself, whispered a quiet spell I had not heard before. 

A light purple mist covered him, and as it cleared, my jaw dropped open so quickly it hurt. 

There, in front of me, was the most incredible sight I had ever seen. Draco Malfoy, in six inch black satin stilettos, with a matching black satin garter belt, sheer thigh highs, and black satin knickers that his impressive cock was straining against. His lips were a thrilling shade of deep red, and those silvery eyes outlined with midnight black eyeliner made my knees weak. I didn’t know my cock was capable of getting harder than it already was, and I whimpered at the sight.

“Like what you see?” he growled, his voice holding an edge of challenge.

In response I dropped to my knees. “Please” I whispered, slowly crawling towards him. A smile curved over his beautiful lips, and I made my way to his feet, stopping in front of his heels. Holding his smouldering gaze I opened my mouth and tentatively licked along the shining black arch of his stiletto. Malfoy shuddered in response, his mouth dropping open. I got bolder and started to lave my tongue along the inside of his left heel, licking from the tips of his stilettos all the way up to his ankle, listening to the delicious sounds as Malfoy started moaning and panting above me. 

“Yes Potter. Oh Merlin yes…. That feels so good.”

I alternated to his other heel, running my tongue all over it as I took in the sight of Malfoy towering above me, his head thrown back, looking so graceful and dangerous all at once. I started moving up his leg, licking above his ankle now, working my way up the inside of his legs, pressing my tongue hard along the sheer fabric of his thigh high stockings. I ran my hands over his calves, gripping tight, a wave of arousal crashing into me- this was actually happening. I was here, with Draco Malfoy, letting me touch him, letting me worship his beautiful legs, letting me… I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, realizing my hands were shaking.

Malfoy felt me pause and opened his eyes, looking down at me.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered, involuntarily. “You are so gorgeous.”

He laughed and reached down, pulling me up by my hair. He stared into me as he wrapped himself around my body, cock pressing against me, chest warm where he held me to him. “Potter. Do you realize, you have far too many clothes on?”

I looked down at myself briefly. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve realized anything at all besides how incredible you look. I can’t get enough of you.”

Malfoy laughed again, the sound bringing me so much pleasure I felt lightheaded. “Malfoy, what kind of spell did you do? I feel so giddy.”

He looked me in the eyes with a satisfied smirk. “That’s one I picked up while living in America. Those queer Chelsea piers witches have some neat magic. It makes the caster embellished with sexual acoutremonts that accentuate their pleasure.”

“Er, what?”

He rolled his eyes with another smirk. “It transforms what you're wearing into a sexy outfit of your own choice, that heightens the wearer’s pleasure. When you run your tongue over my stilettos I feel it in my cock. Every part of this outfit is designed to enhance the experience of the erotic for _me_. Anything it does for you is simply because _you_ like it. I haven't worked any magic on you Potter. I wouldn’t do that without consent first, that’s not my style. Unless, of course, you want me to.” he said, grinning with a wolfish expression as he pressed his cock harder against mine.

I whimpered and nodded, “Yes, yes please.”

With a gleam in his eye Malfoy reached again for his wand, and cast the same spell over me. As the purple haze cleared, I looked down at myself- I was now in a pair of glittering gold thigh high lace up boots with a chunky heel, a sparkling gold pair of tight booty shorts, and a golden PVC chest harness. I looked at him and laughed, taking in his shocked expression, not missing the desire in his eyes. “Not what you expected me to choose?”

“Not quite, but gods, you are incredibly hot.”

And that’s all it took to break down our walls. Moments later Mafloy’s hand was down my shorts, gripping my cock firmly as he roughly wanked me off, his tongue filling my mouth, the rich taste of smoke and roses making me dizzy. I was pulling his panties to the side from the back, my fingers seeking out his hole, desperate to get inside him.

“Is this still what you want?” he panted against my lips.

“Yes, yes please everything” I groaned back as he jerked me off, his touch as mesmerizing as his posh voice. Malfoy dropped to his knees then, whispering safer sex protection charms on both of us, his inviting mouth level with my cock and it was everything I could do not to cum on the spot. His eyes glinted with pleasure and something a bit wicked, and with one hand he started to ease my shorts to my knees, while continuing to work my cock with his other hand. 

Malfoy leaned in, burying his nose in the curls around my cock, taking in a deep breath. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. He looked up at me, and began to drag his tongue through my curls, up and around the base of my cock, and then knelt down further to lap along my balls. His tongue was wicked, so soft and wet- Mafloy knew how to lap at me with just enough pressure it made my balls ache, he was so beautiful…. Holding my gaze, he began to drag the flat of his tongue up along the underside of my cock and I almost came, reaching out to give myself a firm squeeze so I could last a little longer. 

_Malfoy’s mouth feels incredible, so wet and hot he takes me in, sliding up and down my dick, taking me deeper and deeper into that mouth. His throat opens as he works my cock, alternating between sucking and sliding that wicked tongue over me. I’m starting to melt where I stand- he fondles my balls in a way that is gentle and firm, and somehow my hands end up in his hair and it’s so soft, so soft. He reaches up to tighten my hands there, fingers entwined in mine, and starts to force himself down on my cock in a rhythm, encouraging me to use my hands, still wrapped in his hair, to push his head down harder. He reaches around to my ass, gripping hard as he fucks me into his mouth, the back of his throat spongy and tight as he pounds me into him. My legs start to shake and sweat is pouring down my forehead and chest as he edges me closer and closer to cumming and I’m mesmerized, watching my cock disappear into that pretty mouth of his. He’s set up a punishing rhythm in his throat, and I lose myself watching him, Draco Mafloy, on his knees in the kitchen, those pretty thigh highs dragging on the floor as he presses his knees wider, getting lower and lower on my cock as he sucks me down, and I lose myself completely, cumming and cumming into his mouth until I think I’m crying and I can't hold myself up anymore._

** >>>>><<<<< **

** Draco **

I barely get the chance to swallow down his cum before Harry Potter is crying in my arms, collapsed into a heap on my kitchen floor. Fortunately, this is not nearly the first time this has happened to me, I do give spectacular head after all. But I wasn’t really prepared for this to happen with him. Because he is Harry Potter, and I’m sure he’s had all kinds of sex- after all he is the Chosen One and all that rot. 

No, I did not expect to hold him gently in my arms as he drifted into a daze and slowly snapped back out of it. I run my fingers through his incredible hair as he slowly sits up and blinks at me. And no, I absolutely didn’t imagine I would kiss him tenderly after he gets his wits about him again, and that all the while he would look at me like I was the center of his world. 

I gently brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. “Alright there Potter?”

He grins at me like I’m a precious thing. “More than. You are so talented Draco. Unreal. That was incredible. The best I’ve ever had.”

I can’t help but stare at him, my heart quickening at his words. “ _Draco?_ ” I ask, cautiously. 

He laughs, and for a moment he looks boyish again, and I realize he truly is the same boy I spent all those years being bitterly jealous of. And it makes me want to hold him tighter, because we have moved something, we have changed our roles from the past, and for this moment, I have _him_. I have all of his attention, and he is so soft and unguarded in my arms, for the very first time. This sweet Harry Potter, laughing and looking at me like that, it is a dangerous thing, something too easy to get caught up in. 

“Draco. Draco, Draco, Draco. It feels so good to say it. That’s who you are, you’re Draco Mafloy! And you gave me such incredible head I just passed out!” he laughs again and my stomach is starting to ache from that sound. Yes, post-orgasm Harry Potter laughing in my arms is the sweetest sound I’ve heard in a while, and I absolutely wasn’t expecting that. 

“There are many things I am talented at Potter. Do you have it in you to find out more?” I whisper into his neck, trying to go for sounding sexy but realizing too late that it came out sounding like an entirely different kind of question.

Potter turns my head to look him in the eyes. “Yes please, Draco. I want to know it all. And it’s Harry.” He smiles, eyes sparkling brilliant and so ridiculously earnest I have to laugh. What the fuck is going on? Honestly, he cannot keep looking at me like that. I give him a quick kiss and stand up, pulling him up with me. I press my lips to his again and apparate us right into my bedroom.

Potter doesn’t stop kissing me to see where we’ve ended up. He kisses and kisses and kisses me. The spell cast his lips in a dark gold, his eyelashes and cheeks highlighted with tiny golden sparkles that I take in as I look at him. I don’t usually keep my eyes open while kissing, it’s too awkward, really, but once in a while Jeremy and I would make out with them open, for the fun of it. It’s like seeing a different side of your lover- all shadows and softness, and Harry looks good like this. He looks good for me.

“You look so good for me Harry. Such a good boy. I want you on your hands and knees, can you do that for me?”

He nods but doesn’t stop kissing me. He squirms awkwardly, trying to turn around and keep kissing me at the same time, like he can’t get enough. It’s stupid cute, so I growl into his mouth and flip him around until he’s pinned to the bed underneath me, face in the mattress, my cock hard against the curve of his fantastic ass. “Do you want this Harry? Do you want me to fuck you?”

He nods again furiously, “yes, yes, Merlin yes please Draco” he whimpers into the mattress, and I press hard against him, listening to his panting, feeling him writhe underneath me, pushing his ass back desperately against my cock. **I** breathe him in, the smell of sweat on his back tangy and wild- he smells like fire, his skin burns against mine. There’s crackles of magic starting to spark in the air, it feels like we’re in a haze of smoke and somewhere in my mind I wonder if we’re casting a spell together. The way we’re grinding our bodies seems to make the air itself electric, and the current is going to my head… it’s dizzying, this desire I feel for him, and I grip him harder and lick along the golden harness that’s stretched across his back, drinking in his taste, and nothing has ever felt quite so right. It makes me shudder, the feel of him on my tongue, and my cock is so hard and heavy and ready for him.

“Harry…” I whisper along his neck and he ruts back against me, panting so hard and moaning as my cock rubs along his ass. I wind my fingers through that gorgeous hair of his and pull his head back, pulling him up and against me so I can reach into his gorgeous mouth with my fingers. I stroke those plump lips, and he slides his tongue out, sucking at my fingers, taking me in into his mouth until I feel the back of his throat. 

I fuck my hand hard into his mouth, relishing the feel of his hot tongue laving at me desperately, hungry and whimpering, opening up to show me how much he can take. And I want to take him, I want to take all of him. I stuff more fingers into his mouth and my hand is slick with spit when I finally pull out to slide them between his cheeks, getting him wet for me. He whines and turns to kiss me again, bent awkwardly at the waist as I push him back down, devouring his mouth with mine. I pull his hips up and sit back to admire the view of his glorious ass.

“Harry…” I breathe out softly, my voice a whisper of awe as I take him in. I can smell his arousal, his legs quivering as he holds himself up unsteadily on his hands and knees. I lean forward, breathing him in, moving my hands onto the perfect curve of his ass and spread him open, greeting that beautiful asshole with my tongue, laving up and down, hungrily pressing against his hole. He opens for me, he opens eager and shivering against my tongue. The taste of him, the musky taste of Harry Potter makes my cock ache and I lose myself a little as I eat his ass. Gods I could do this forever. He’s bucking against me, crying out my name, and I slide my hand down his thigh, reaching forward to grab his wrist and pull his hand back to replace mine, holding his ass cheek open for me. He eagerly falls face first back onto the mattress, putting both his hands to use, spreading himself for me, moaning and crying my name as I work his asshole open with first my tongue, thrusting in, then one finger, than two, and then a third, fucking in and out of him, getting as deep as I can into the hot wetness of Harry Potter’s ass. I’ve never felt so powerful before.

The charged air shifts around us, and I know it’s time to sink my cock into him- he’s so open, writhing and bucking up against my face. I slide my hand around to grip his cock and give it a few strong tugs. He shouts my name. “Fuck yes Draco, please, take me please, now, I want you so badly” and it’s all I can do to keep myself from cumming right that second, my name sounds so good on his lips. 

“I’m going to give you my cock Potter. I’m gonna fuck you til you can’t remember your name.” He cries out and nods into the mattress, cock twitching heavily in my hand. 

“Yes Draco, please, _yes_. I’m going to be so good for you, I’m gonna take you so good. Wreck me Draco, _please_. I’m gonna be such a good boy for you, please fuck me Draco,” he’s whining and babbling and holding himself impossibly wider for me, and I push my satin panties down my thighs, letting my cock spring free. And this is it, I’m going to fuck Harry Potter. The air crackles with promise and I let myself feel how much I want him, how much I need him in this moment. Looking so devastated and gorgeous beneath me, giving himself up as an offering to my cock, desperate for it. In this moment I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this- his trust, his desire, but I know better than to question this gift I’ve been given. I take a deep breath, focusing my magic and whisper another wandless protection spell and a lube spell back to back. I line myself up, and let myself sink into him. 

Harry Potter is wonderfully tight and hot around my cock. He arches back and slams himself onto my dick over and over again, riding me like an eager little slut, making the most filthy moaning sounds as I fill him up. “Oh yes Draco, oh fuck, I can’t believe you’re inside me, wreck my bussy, take me Draco, pound me please Draco pound me, yes…” He moves like a wild thing and the magic in the room sparks gold and pulses hot over me as I lose myself in him, driving myself as deep inside as I can get into him. Sweat is flying from the ends of my hair, landing all over his back, pooling with the sweat already gathered there as I slide in and out of him, watching his ass gripping at my cock, taking me over and over and over again. 

Harry Potter howls, losing himself as I fuck him, gripping his harness to give myself more leverage, yanking him back against me as I pound his ass, with my cock hardening impossibly inside him. I know it will be soon, my orgasm building hot and wild, and Harry is yelling my name over and over, the air sparking and filled with the smell of him, the smell of our frantic fucking, and I’m losing myself in this pleasure. I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke it firmly- with a shout Harry comes undone against me, his cum pulsing hot over my hand, and it sends my mind spinning.

“Fuck Draco, fuck, fuck. You feel so good Draco, fuck yes, fuck yes, I wanted this so bad, yes Draco please fill me up. Please fill me with your cum, cum for me Draco, use my hole, stuff me with your cock, please Draco I need you,” he whimpers, and I lose my mind, my cock pulsing inside him, and soon I’m fucking fiercely into my own cum that’s filling him up and I pound and pound him until my cock is soft and I’m high off the sensation of my cock wet with the cum I’ve filled his ass with. I can’t move anymore and we both drop exhausted to the bed. The room is spinning and shimmering with gold and silver sparks of light, and Harry turns to me, gorgeous eyes unfocused as he reaches out to tangle himself in my hair, pulling me close, kissing me like he can’t get enough. 

When my heart finally feels like it’s slowed down enough for me to breathe I gently pull back and look at him, at Harry, putting my fingers where my mouth had been. He laps eagerly at them, tongue hot and wet, and I gently tilt his chin up, and ask him to look at me. 

“You okay Harry?” I whisper. His eyes sharpen, and he look at me clearly for the first time, breaking through the haze of shagged out bliss. I want him to remember that it’s me, here, with him. I’m not sure why, but right now I need him to see me, and to still want me when he does. 

Harry’s gaze is reverent as he takes me in. “Draco,” he whispers. “I’ve wanted that for so long. Gods you’re incredible.” He grins then, his smile all mischief as he spreads his legs and offers me a look- the sight of my cum dripping out of his ass makes me groan and my cock twitches mercilessly, already threatening to get hard again, even as I feel completely spent. 

>>>>><<<<<

“Well. That was quite fantastic,” I say breathlessly, my tone halfway between dreamy and serious. 

Harry looks over at me, that crooked grin spreading across his stupidly handsome face. “Yes, it really was. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. I’m so happy we finally did this.”

I couldn’t help but blush. “Yes, well. Congratulations to us both then. But…” I clear my throat. “I am getting famished, and I should really get on with my day.”

Potter laughs, easy and unguarded, lounging in my bed looking positively edible, and it does strange things to my heart. “You’re always famished! I love it. Where should we go for breakfast? Or is it lunch time? Time really does fly when you’re having fun,” he winks, and gives me a sly smile.

“Indeed it does. However, I am afraid I really do need to be getting on with my day, as I said.” I don’t look at him as I say the words. It’s not easy, but it’s what needs to happen next.

“Wait, what?! Are you kicking me out?”

“Not exactly, Potter. I just need to get on with my day. So if you don’t mind.” I gesture to his clothes and clench my jaw against words that threaten to spill out- _stay with me_. 

“I don’t understand. We just had the most brilliant shag, and now you want me to leave?”

I roll my eyes. I should have seen this coming, fucking Griffindors. “Yes, Potter. That’s how this works, don’t you know?

“Actually, I don’t”, he says, sitting up to glare at me. “And it's Potter now that we're done fucking? Are you kidding me? Draco, you can’t possibly just think we’re just having a shag?”

“Actually, yes.” I sigh, running my hands through my hair in frustration. “I suppose this is my fault for not being more clear, I usually have this chat with lovers beforehand, but I assumed the feeling was mutual.”

“Mutual? What feeling?”

“What are you not understanding here, Potter? We’ve had our fun over these past weeks, the tension has been delicious. And the shag, absolutely brilliant. But we can’t go on, this is a one time thing.”

“What?!” his eyes widen, and he looks at me, incredulous. “Why?!”

“Why? Why would we keep this going, Potter? You’re an auror, for Merlin’s sake. I’m a former Death Eater. The press alone would eat us alive.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the press. Why are you acting like this Draco?” his eyes soften, and he reaches for me, his hands gentle as they take mine.

My resolve threatens to crumble as I look back at him, eyes so green and sincere. I can’t do this. He needs to leave, now, or it’s going to get messy. I pull my hands away and wrap my arms around myself.

“Harry,” I make myself say. “I can’t do more than this. We had a brilliant shag to get it out of our systems, isn’t that enough? You’re an auror, Harry. You’re one of them. I can’t… I can’t do more than this with an auror. We’re on different sides of this story, Harry, we always have been. You’re on the winning side, and I’m not. You’re on the side with the power, the side that makes the rules. I’m the one who gets broken by them.”

He looks at me for a long time, and we’re both barely breathing. 

“Oh Draco….” he whispers, reaching out for me again, gently rubbing up and down my arms with a gentle touch. “Draco I’m so sorry for everything that has happened to you. I am so sorry for my part in them. You cannot believe how sorry I am. And I want to make things right. I want everything that I said in the letter I sent you- I want a chance to show each other that neither of us are monsters. That we can work together to make things better, for everyone. You’ve already shown me so much, I’ve learned so much from you. And I don’t want you to have to teach me, I want to do the work too, I want us to work together. I’ve been daydreaming of us working together to help with the proposal Hermione has been drafting- all of us, side by side. I think we’d make a really good team, Draco. In every way. I really want to get to know you better, I’ve liked everything I’ve gotten to see so much already. Can’t we see where this goes?”

I stare at him. I want to believe him, I want to believe in this, so much. I shake my head, breaking the spell of his lovely eyes, his sweet words, and commit to staying strong in my resolve. “No, Potter. None of it is that simple. You’re an auror, I’m me.”

“But Draco, we’re going to change all that, bit by bit, and we can do it together. I believe we really can make it better. Me and Hermione and Ron, and Hermione’s brilliant team, we’re going to change the system to focus on rehabilitation, instead of just locking people up in Azkaban. And that’s in part because of you, Draco. And then there's everyone who has come before us, everyone who has been working on this vision for so long now, for as long as it has existed there have been people working to end the current structure of the prison system. There have been so many people who have worked towards this reality, towards abolition and the opportunity to actually support people to heal and transform, rather than be punishished. But you’re the one who has really opened my eyes up to it Draco. I want to be better, for me, but also for you. For us, if you let me.”

I laugh now, hollowly. “You can’t be serious Harry. There is no ‘us’. We hardly know each other. It’s only been a month now that we’ve been spending time together. And don’t gloss over what you’ll be up against with the aurors. The drive to punish is strong, it’s old, it’s unrelenting. They could very well turn on you, on all of you who try to change their ways. The Wizarding world has it’s biases, just like the Muggle world. You can’t possibly think everyone is going toss aside their _Avara Kedavaras_ and _Imperious_ curses to hold hands and skip through fields of daisies together all of a sudden. Be realistic, Potter.”

He stares at me, squaring his jaw, and I know I’m starting to lose this argument. Harry is famously stubborn. “I know it’s hard work. And I know I have a lot to learn. We’re talking about abolition here, Draco. But it’s nothing new- people have been dreaming of abolition and working towards it for generations. There was justice before there were prisons, and we can find ways to have justice without prisons again. It takes all of us being willing to give it a chance. To bring it from dreams into reality, piece by piece.” 

I watch him carefully, drinking up his words, but still not daring to let myself believe it. “And as for us,” he continues, voice growing stronger as he stares into me, “I can’t think of a month that’s felt as good as this one has, in a long time. Even the hard parts, they opened something up in me. Something big, something life-changing. I want to be with someone who challenges me to think, to become a better version of myself, and vice versa. And I want to share in that with you, Draco. I want to take a chance on us, to see where this goes.”

And I’m entirely not ready for him. Not ready for this, not his kindness, his determination. I shake my head. “I can’t.” I whisper.

He looks at me again, his expression changed, calculating. He takes a deep breath. “Is it Jeremy?” he asks softly.

My head snaps up to stare at him. I wasn’t expecting that. My body starts to tremble, involuntarily. Tears swell, warm and heavy around the corners of my eyes, and gently spill down my cheeks. “Maybe,” I whisper, as much to myself as to him. “But not in the ways you think. I’ve had other loves since Jeremy, although nowhere near as precious as the love I had with him. It’s just, when I look at you, I think of all the time I lost with him. Because of people like you. The aurors. Maybe he would still be alive, if not for the lot of you.” 

He nods, serious. We don’t speak for a long time. We sit there, so utterly naked, so devastated, the air thick with grief, familiar and suffocating. Finally he breaks the silence.“I understand. And I am so so sorry for your loss. I know some of the pain you feel, not the same kind, but in a different way. When I used to look at you, I thought of everyone I lost too. Of Dumbledore, of Dobby, of Sirius. But I know it’s not because of you, it was never _you_. It’s these roles we’ve played, on different sides of the war. It’s the mistakes we’ve made. It’s bigger than any one of us. And what matters now, is what we do with the pieces we have left. How we grow, and how we heal. Draco, I want to shape things into a better world with you, side by side. With all the broken and beautiful pieces we’ve brought with us along the way. You and I, it feels like we were always destined in some way. Don’t you agree? Tell me you can’t see what I’m talking about, and I’ll go, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll respect that, I really will. But I’ve learned to listen to my heart, and I think we can do something really amazing together, so I’m going to take the chance and ask you- what do you want?”

It’s all so impossible to hear, I have to laugh. The Golden Boy, telling me that we’re destiny. It makes my head spin. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Then what say we try it together? Give this a chance, see what we can make of it?” He holds out his hand.

I stare at his outstretched hand for a long moment, thinking over everything. I think of all the reasons this is impossible, foolish. And I think of all the reasons we should fight for a chance to see what this can become. I let myself feel into all of the reasons I deserve to try this thing, with him. I take his hand. “I have no idea,” I repeat. Because I really don’t know where this is going to go.

He smiles, and there it is- his expression like lightening breaking through a stormy sky. Electric, and everything is possible. “Scared, Malfoy?” he whispers.

I smile, despite myself. And I know, right then, that we really do fit, against all odds, and that we always have. “Absolutely, Potter. But it’s worth it.”


	9. Chapter 9

** Epilogue- Harry **

Draco and I, it never could’ve been casual. Nothing about us was ever casual- not in school, and certainly not now. When he eventually agreed to giving this thing between us a chance, we spent the rest of the day shagging each other senseless, napping and laughing and eating cucumber sandwiches to keep our energy up. Eventually Draco, famished as usual, demanded we get out of bed and put together some dinner from the fridge. He started a pot of water boiling on the stove, and came over to sit on my lap, lifting my head to look at him seriously.

“Are we really going to do this Potter?”

“You already know we are Draco.”

He looked into my eyes for a long time, as if he was searching for something. Eventually he must have seen it, because he nodded. “Then I have a request.”

“Oh?” My heart started hammering in my chest at the nervous look on his face. He bit his lip and looked away, sighing. 

“Potter- er, Harry. The sex is great. Amazing, really. And we’ve had a nice time reconnecting these past few weeks, except for that one day at the Activities Center.… But we can’t pretend we don’t have years of animosity between us, or that we didn’t fight on the opposite sides of a horrific war, that we didn’t both almost kill each other, or that we didn’t save each other’s lives at least once.” He turned back to look at me then. “I suppose there’s not that many people who can say that, are there?”

I shook my head, wondering where this was all going. 

“I want us to do this the best way we can. Because it terrifies me, really, to take a chance on this. On _us_ , but I want it. And I know you do too. And, well… there’s something I did, back when Jeremy passed away, and it helped me a lot. I was saw a grief counselor, and got introduced to the world of Muggle therapy. It really helped me Harry, it helped me learn how to talk about what I was feeling, how to ask for help, and how to manage the pain of it all.… So I’d like to see if you’d be open to seeing a Mind Healer or a Muggle therapist together, to help us work through the hard things as we… as we figure out how to do whatever _this_ is.”

I let myself smile slowly as I took in his words. He really did want to do this, in a real way. “Yes, absolutely! I love that idea Draco, thank you, yes… I want to work through things with you too, I don’t want to just avoid the past like it’s never happened. I want _this_ to work.”

He smiled back shyly. “Alright then. I can ask Blaise for some referrals. You know, he’s a Mind Healer, one of the best.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard lots about his work, Hermione mentioned wanting to work with him as a consultant for creating culturally competent rehabilitation programs, as part of the proposal.”

“Really?! That’s fantastic!” Draco beamed and started chatting happily about Blaise and how proud he was of his friend. His body relaxed and I watched him, listening as best I could, trying not to be distracted by the sight of a gorgeously naked Draco straddling my lap. It wasn’t long before he could tell I was barely able to keep it together though, and he gave me a gentle push as he stood up, laughing. 

“You’re insatiable Potter.”

“You make me this way Draco, you’re stunning.”

He chuckled and went to check on the water, which was at a rolling boil. 

“Can I help with the cooking? What are we having for dinner?” I asked, realizing I was suddenly very hungry. 

He looked back at me mischievously, “Macaroni in a pot. It seemed fitting.” And then he started giggling and I lost myself in the sound of Draco Malfoy’s laughter….

**************************************************

**Two months later...**

**Harry**

It’s past 1 am, and sleep feels far away. A thousand different scenarios keep playing out in my mind, I’m so nervous… tomorrow I’ll be going to meet the Hogwarts Express again. The kids are coming back to visit for the holidays, and I can’t believe how much has changed since the last time I was at King’s Cross. My stomach has been fluttering like a band of mad cornish pixies all day. This time it will be so different….

Draco made my favorite dinner tonight- vegan macaroni, of course, comfort food to soothe my restless nerves. Afterwards, he played Toots and the Maytals on his Muggle record player and danced me around the room to “Sweet and Dandy”, singing along with the words- it was so tender it made my heart ache. These days he seems to always know how to make me smile myself silly, how to loosen the tension from my bones, and I feel so alive with the thrill of being seen like this, by him, by this man I’ve come to love, in this short time that is also a long time- a few months, many years, different lifetimes spent watching each other….

I smile to myself thinking of the last time I saw Albus. Draco and I made a visit to Hogsmeade in early November, asking Scorpius and Albus to meet us there. We both felt it was the responsible thing to do, to talk with our children about our relationship- so strange being an adult now! I had been so scared to go back to Hogsmeade though, deathly afraid of being plagued with bad memories, so Draco made one of his special potions, just for me. He named it “Lion Heart”- a blend of Borage and Leonurus Cardiaca grown in his garden, created to calm my nerves so I could make the journey. It worked beautifully, and I felt my heart beat steady as I embraced my son for the first time since I had dropped him off at King's Cross. Albus as much as threw me a party when I told him I’ve started dating his best friend’s father. He even ordered another round of hot chocolate and gave me a heartfelt toast to “New, Old love”.

Draco had gone on a walk with Scorpius, to tell them the news one on one, and when the two of them came to meet me in Madam Puddifoot’s, Albus ran over and hugged Draco, telling him how excited he was that his dad was finally dating again. Scorpius, much like their father, was a bit more formal with me. They shook my hand, arched an eyebrow and said it was about time! The cheek of these kids.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud at the memory. Almost everyone who matters to me has warmed up to me and Draco’s relationship by now, and most days it’s felt surprisingly easy. Of course there are times we disagree (and get quite animated about it), or days when the work of advocating for rehabilitation at the Ministry wears on both our nerves, and we snap at each other irritably. But for the most part, the past few months have surprised me with the steady intimacy that’s grown between the two of us. The Muggle therapy we both go to has helped, of course. But also, it’s who we’ve become- me and him, on this journey together.

I realize I’ve been ready, finally ready for a love like this. Something transformative, a love to help me grow to be a better version of myself. And Draco, he’s changed so much, allowed himself to be shaped by life’s joys and miseries, forged through fire to become someone with a heart so beautiful, so precious. Precious and ready to take on the world together, to carve out more paths towards justice, together. It’s all so incredible, and I feel tears of gratitude building up behind my eyelids, sliding slow and hot down my face.

I hear a rustle in the bed next to me, and a soft yawn.

“You still awake love?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Hey love, you alright?” he asks, pulling me close, thumbing one of my tears away from my cheek and lapping it up with his tongue.

I nod, and nestle into his chest.

“Are you still worried about tomorrow?”

I nod again.

He runs his hands gently through my hair, pulling lightly, just the way I like. I let myself relax into his arms.

“Honestly love, I’m not sure how it will be. But we’ll be together. You and me, Gin and Luna, Hermione, Ron, Astoria, Hannah, Pansy, Blaise, Rosie and Lily- a whole pack of us! We’ll all be there to go pick up Scorpius and Albus.” He lifts my chin, and my eyes focus on the shape of his face in the soft darkness. I can just make out his dazzling smile, which grows wider as I drink in the sight of him. Merlin, that smile. I could never get enough. “Love, we’ll be together this time,” he whispers.

I smile back, and let myself fall a little more in love with him. I pull him close to me, kissing him deeply and thanking the world, so full of mystery, for bringing the two of us back into each others lives.

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow! We have reached the end of this journey, thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> It’s an honor to get to share this piece with the magical slice of pie that is the Drarry fandom, thank you to all of the writers who have created this gorgeous universe. This piece will be my one and only Drarry writing contribution (I'll be working on queer fics in other fandoms though, so fun), and I’d love to tell you the backstory: 
> 
> I discovered Drarry in November of 2019, right when Winter was looming on the horizon, and it was amazing! As I was enjoying the magic of immersing in the dazzling queerness of your beautiful Drarry stories, December 19th hit hard with JK Rowling’s transphobic tweets, and everything shattered for me. As a mixed gender queer freak, the world JK Rowling created with her series was a healing balm, a window into a universe where I could picture myself in magical castles, running through the Forbidden Forest at night, flying over the Black Lake on a broom… it completely devastated me that the creator of this world, someone I have looked up to as an author, as an activist, could hold such a hurtful view of the community I’m part of, and which I hold dear. 
> 
> For a while I was broken hearted, but then one of my most favorite people in my life (Toasted Sesame, I love you!) shared with me these wonderful words- she told me “the most important thing we can do right now is make art. Because art changes culture, and when we change culture we can change the world.” It was Winter Solstice when she told me this, and as a group of our friends gathered together, making wreaths to weave in wishes for the new season to come, her words were just what I needed to hear. 
> 
> And so, I decided to start writing, creating worlds for all of us queer gender fabulous freaks get to thrive, and part of my process was to write this story- in honor of all of us who blur the lines, whose magic is too beautiful for those who refuse to really see us, and to thank the Drarry community. I believe together we can change the world with our words, and with our actions.
> 
> xoxox


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